«&&  ssiiv;E  >'>  v  ^,^t.>       ^-vy 


UNIV.  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELES 


"I  want  to  speak  to  you,  my  dear.    Will  you  attend 1 "—Page  n. 


Life  in  a  Nutshell 


a 


AGNES     GIBERNE 

AUTHOR   OF    "WON   AT   LAST,"    ETC. 


BOSTON 
A.    J.    BRADLEY    &    CO. 

PUBLISHERS 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP. 

i.  KATIE'S  HOME  . 

If.   MATCH-BOXES     . 

III.  AT   "THK   WALNUTS" 

IV.  SOMETHING  TO  DO     . 
V.   BESSIE'S   ACCOUNTS    . 

VI.   AUNT  CII.VTTIE  . 
VII.   A   COMING   BIRTHDAY 
VIII.   LATE  TALKING  . 

ix.  MR.  BALFOUR'S  GIFT 
x.  FROM  KATIE'S  FATHER    . 

XI.   THE  BLUE  DRESS 
XII.   NIGHT-WATCHING 

XIII.  THE   BIRTHDAY  . 

XIV.  AN   INVITATION 
XV.  KEPT  APART 

XVI.   BY  THE  FIRESIDE      . 
XVII.  SOMETHING  GONE  WRONG 
XVIII.   A  CRASH 


PACK 

7 

19 
27 
38 
47 
5S 
66 

77 
86 

94 
1 06 

"3 

121 
I30 
I3S 
146 

153 

161 


vi  CONTENTS. 


CHAP.  PAGE 

XIX.  AT  "THE  WALNUTS"  AGAIN 172 

XX.  PASSING  AWAY l8l 

XXI.  KATH'S  LOSS 189 

XXII.   A  QUESTION 197 

XXIII.  THE  LAST  THREE  WEEKS 206 

XXIV.   TOGETHER 214 


LIFE   IN   A   NUTSHELL. 


CHAPTER  I. 
KATIE'S    HOME, 

had  never  been  out  into  the  great 
world,  or  even  into  any  considerable  por- 
tion of  it,  —  beyond  a  day's  trip  to  Great 
Yarmouth  or  to  Norwich,  at  distant  intervals.  Katie 
Balfour  was  still  unfledged  at  the  age  of  eighteen, 
knowing  practically  nothing  of  life,  beyond  the  limits 
of  the  remote  east-country  village  which  had  always 
been  her  home  —  except,  of  course,  what  books  might 
teach  her.  One  may  learn  a  good  deal  of  life  from 
books  ;  much  that  is  true,  as  well  as  much  that  is 
false. 

But  books  were  not  abundant  in  Eckham.  Mudie 
extended  no  finger  there;  while  the  nearest  rail- 
way station  was  five  miles  away.  Moreover,  the 
said  station  was  much  too  small  to  possess  a  book- 

7 


LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 


stall ;  and  had  things  been  otherwise,  Mr.  Balfour 
was  too  poor  to  pay  a  subscription  to  any  library. 

The  village  itself  was  a  mere  collection  of  cot- 
tages, apparently  squatted  down,  without  aim  or 
object,  on  the  flat  coast — flat,  except  for  the  great 
sand-dunes  running  all  along  the  shore,  between 
the  village  and  the  beach.  But  those  sand-dunes, 
or  long  low  hills  of  sand,  were  not  stationary. 
Slowly,  century  by  century,  they  had  been  creep- 
ing inward,  as  inch  by  inch  the  sea  gained  upon  the 
land.  The  Eckhani  of  olden  days  had  lain  where  now 
the  waves  danced  among  sea-weeds  at  the  lowest 
tides.  The  Eckham  of  these  days  would  by-and- 
by  lie,  in  like  manner,  a  ruined  village  under  the 
sands.  People  knew  this,  but  they  held  their  know- 
ledge calmly ;  for  it  was  a  case  of  "  not  in  my  days." 

Eckham  Church  was  a  grand  old  building,  with 
windows  down  one  side  only,  and  with  the  massive 
square  tower  characteristic  of  Norfolk.  It  would 
hold  more  than  four  hundred  people  with  ease. 
Not  much  use  in  that,  since  the  whole  population 
of  Eckham,  old  people,  middle-aged  folk,  children 
and  babies,  all  together  fell  very  far  short  of  four 
hundred.  Mr.  Balfour  counted  himself  well  off  with 
a  Sunday  morning  congregation  of  twenty  or  thirty, 
and  a  Sunday  afternoon  congregation  of  perhaps 
twice  that  number. 


KATIE'S  HOME. 


He  had  toiled  many  a  long  year  in  this  place, 
labouring  patiently,  though  not  'very  hopefully, 
without  making  much  impression.  The  people 
took  his  efforts  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  his 
kindnesses  as  their  right.  Mr.  Balfour  often  called 
himself  an  "unprofitable  servant,"  because  he  saw 
so  little  fruit  to  his  labours ;  and  perhaps  he  forgot, 
sometimes,  that  "  the  Lord  seeth  not  as  man  seeth." 

He  was  growing  old  fast,  this  Eeverend  Stephen 
Balfour — not  yet  sixty-five  in  years,  but  in  appear- 
ance much  past  seventy,  with  his  worn  hands,  his 
stoop,  his  furrowed  brow.  He  looked  thin,  and 
his  cheeks  were  sunken,  and  a  certain  tremulous- 
ness  of  manner  was  perceptible  when  he  read  and 
preached.  It  had  been  more  marked  lately.  The 
keen  winds  of  Norfolk  seemed  too  much  for  him,  and 
a  winter  cough  troubled  him  much.  September  had 
come  round  again,  and  cold  weather  lay  not  far 
distant,  with  the  terrible  easterly  blasts  of  spring  to 
follow.  He  dreaded  them  in  prospect. 

Mr.  Balfour  had  only  one  child,  his  eighteen-years- 
old  Katie;  and  one  servant,  faithful  and  devoted, 
though  crabbed  and  disagreeable.  Katie's  mother  had 
died  in  her  childhood,  and  since  then,  Mr.  Balfour 
had  been  to  her,  father,  mother,  friend,  all  in  one,  to 
the  best  of  his  ability. 

Katie   loved   him    most  dearly.     Still,  it  was  a 


io  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

strange  and  lonely  life  for  a  young  girl.  She  had  no 
intimate  friends.  "Society,"  for  her,  consisted  of 
the  few  families  of  the  neighbouring  clergy;  and, 
after  all,  they  met  but  seldom.  Mr.  Balfour  had 
a  rough  little  two-wheeled  "  chay,"  and  a  very  feeble 
ancient  pony,  with  which  he  and  Katie  sometimes 
drove  to  a  rectory  or  a  parsonage,  here  or  there. 
But  callers  were  few,  and  calls  due  were  not 
many. 

So  Katie  grew  up  with  her  little  round  of  home- 
duties,  in  the  way  of  dusting,  cooking,  and  mending ; 
her  little  round  of  interests,  in  the  way  of  pet 
chickens  and  kittens;  her  little  round  of  parish 
occupations,  in  the  way  of  Sunday-school  and  village 
calls;  her  little  round  of  pleasures,  in  the  way  of 
reading,  and  of  a  walk  or  drive  with  "  father ; "  her 
little  round  of  troubles,  in  the  way  of  Deborah's 
temper,  and  Sunday  scholars'  dulness.  She  grew  up, 
year  by  year ;  and  for  a  long  while  it  never  dawned 
on  her  father  that  she  was  a  child  no  longer.  Only 
Katie  herself  felt  a  difference. 

They  were  out  together  in  the  garden  one  after- 
noon ;  Mr.  Balfour  on  the  rustic  seat,  not  reading, 
but  thinking.  It  was  a  small  garden  surrounding 
a  small  house;  part  being  laid  out  for  vegetables, 
and  a  portion  reserved  for  flowers.  A  few  late  roses 
hung  over  Katie's  smooth  brown  head,  as  she  sat  on 


KA  TIE'S  HOME.  1 1 


a  little  wicker  chair,  quite  absorbed  in  Goldsmith's 
"History  of  Greece."  She  wore  a  navy-blue  summer 
serge,  of  the  plainest  possible  make,  with  linen 
collar  and  cuffs. 

A  slight  breeze  swept  by,  stirring  the  small  clump 
of  bushes  in  their  rear — bushes  planted,  one  and  all, 
by  Mr.  Balfour's  own  hand,  during  past  years.  He 
had  "  made  "  the  garden,  such  as  it  was.  With  the 
breezy  breath  he  shivered  sharply.  Katie  at  once 
looked  up,  and  said,  "  Are  you  cold,  father  ? " 

"  Yes.  I  almost  think  I  will  go  in,"  Mr.  Balfour 
answered  ;  yet  he  did  not  move.  He  seemed  to  be 
thinking. 

Katie's  eyes  went  back  to  her  page.  "  Goldsmith 
is  so  interesting,"  she  remarked. 

"He  was  thought  more  of  at  one  time  than  he  is 
now.  Katie " 

"  Yes,  father." 

"  I  want  to  speak  to  you,  my  dear.  Will  you 
attend  ? " 

Katie  shut  the  book  at  once.  "But  won't  you 
come  indoors,  father,  if  you  are  cold." 

"  It  was  momentary.  I  think  the  breeze  has 
died  down." 

"Has  anybody  done  anything  wrong?"  asked 
Katie.  "  Father,  I  think  you  look  worried." 

"  I  dread  changes,  my  Katie.     Things  have  gone 


12  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

on  quietly  so  long — so  many  years.  Yet,  if  it  has 
to  be " 

"  Changes  ? "  said  Katie. 

"  How  would  you  like  to  pay  a  long  visit  to  your 
uncle  Thornton  and  his  family  ?  " 

"  You  and  I  together  ? " 

"You  alone." 

"Oh,  I  couldn't,  of  course,"  Katie  answered  at 
once,  and  very  decidedly.  "It  isn't  as  if  there 
were  any  one  else.  I  couldn't  leave  you  alone, 
father,  with  only  Deb.  She  has  been  so  cross 
lately." 

"Poor  Deb!  She  and  I  are  growing  old  to- 
gether ! " 

Katie  looked  beseeching.  She  had  an  expressive 
face,  oval  in  shape,  and  healthy  in  colouring,  not 
remarkable  for  beauty  of  feature,  with  the  excep- 
tion, perhaps,  of  a  pretty  little  mouth  and  chin ; 
but  answering  to  every  shade  of  thought  and  feel- 
ing below.  "  Please  don't  talk  about  being  old," 
she  said.  "  Sixty-five  is  only  quite  middle-aged 
for  a  man,  father." 

"Ah,  my  dear!"  Mr.  Balfour  half-smiled,  half- 
sighed.  "  Age  is  not  only  a  question  of  years." 

"But  you  haven't  had  such  very  hard  work 
either,  have  you? — not  like  a  London  clergyman. 
Of  course  I  should  like  very  much  to  see  London," 


KATIE'S  HOME.  13 


Katie  went  on  sedately.  "  Still,  I  could  not  leave 
you.  And  there  would  be  no  one  to  take  the 
Sunday-school." 

This  was  literally  true.  Katie  "  took  "  the  Sun- 
day-school herself,  with  only  the  help  of  a  farmer's 
young  daughter. 

Mr.  Balfour  shivered  again.  "I  think  I  will  go 
iu,"  he  said.  "  It  is  certainly  turning  cold." 

He  stood  up  and  slowly  crossed  the  lawn,  Katie 
walking  by  his  side. 

The  drawing-room  which  they  entered  was  dimi- 
nutive, and  furnished  in  old-fashioned  style,  with  a 
round  table  in  the  centre,  and  heavy  chintz-clothed 
chairs  standing  stiffly  against  the  walls.  The  chintz 
was  old-fashioned  too,  having  a  pattern  of  big  red 
flowers  and  leaves  upon  a  white  ground.  A  little 
old  cottage  piano  occupied  one  corner,  and  a  straight- 
backed  sofa  stood  opposite. 

"  I  think  you  will  like  a  fire  this  evening,  father," 
said  Katie,  as  he  sat  down. 

"Yes,  perhaps  so.  Don't  go,  my  dear;  I  have 
something  to  say  still." 

Katie  took  a  seat,  feeling  somewhat  anxious. 
His  manner  was  unusual. 

"  What  is  it  ? "  she  asked,  looking  up  in  his  face. 
"Father,  I  am  quite  sure  something  is  troubling 
you,  and  you  have  not  told  me.  Won't  you  tell  me 


I4  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

now  ?  I  think  I  ought  to  know.  You  and  I  are 
friends — not  only  father  and  child — and  we  always 
tell  each  other  everything.  I  shouldn't  like  to  think 
there  were  secrets  between  us.  It  isn't  as  if  there 
were  anybody  else  in  the  world,  except,  of  course, 
dear  old  Deb  and  the  villagers.  But  that  is  quite 
different.  Please  tell  me.  I  am  not  a  child  now, 
you  know." 

And  as  Katie  pleaded  thus,  the  old  clergyman 
turned  his  head  aside,  and  burst  into  tears. 

Katie  had  never  in  her  life  seen  him  do  this 
before.  "  Father ! "  she  said,  in  an  awe-struck  tone. 
She  drew  closer  to  his  side,  and  laid  her  head  on 
his  shoulder.  "  Father,  dear,  please  don't ;  I  won't 
tease  you  any  more." 

Mr.  Balfour's  arm  came  round  her,  and  he  was 
already  recovering  himself.  "  Will  you  be  a  dear 
brave  child,  and  help  me  ? "  he  asked.  "  It  will  be 
a  trial,  I  know ;  but  will  you  be  brave  ? " 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  steadily. 

"  I  know  you  will  try.  I  have  not  been  very — 
not  very  well  or  strong — for  a  year  or  two  past.  It 
did  not  seem  worth  while  to  say  much ;  but  last 
winter  was  trying,  and  this  summer  has  not  done 
so  much  for  me  as  perhaps  I  hoped.  Last  week, 
when  I  drove  alone  to  the  station,  I  did  not  tell  you 
my  reason  for  not  taking  you ;  but  I  went  by  train 


KATIE'S  HOME.  15 

to  see  Dr.  Bandall.  That  is  why  I  was  so  long  gone. 
He  is  skilful,  and  he  understands  me." 

"  Yes,  father." 

"He  says  I  must  not  spend  another  winter  in 
Norfolk." 

Katie  was  silent  for  a  few  seconds.  Then  she 
asked,  in  the  same  firm  voice,  "Does  he  think  it 
too  cold  ?  " 

"  Too  cold  for  me  in  my  present  state.  There  is 
active  mischief  in  the  lungs.  He  does  not  think 
we  have  any  cause  for  present  alarm.  People  in 
this  condition  often  last  for  years  ;  but  I  must  be 
very  careful,  and  he  insists,  above  all,  on  a  winter 
abroad." 

"Where?" 

"  He  would  prefer  Cannes." 

Katie  lifted  a  perplexed  face.  "  But  the  money  ?  " 
she  said  ;  "  and  the  work  here  ?  I  don't  quite 


"  Those  were  my  difficulties.  I  would  not  speak 
to  you  till  I  could  see  my  way." 

"  And  do  you  now  ?  " 

"  Yes  ;  I  wrote  in  one  or  two  directions.  Of 
course  the  expense  would  be  great.  We  have  some- 
thing laid  by  ;  but  it  grieves  me  to  think  of  using 
that.  I  meant  it  for  you,  by-and-by.  Still  —  if  it  has 
to  be  !  Dr.  Eandall  spoke  very  strongly  of  the  need.0 


1 6  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 


Katie  grew  pale.  "And  that  money  will  be 
enough  to  take  us  ? " 

"  I  find  I  can  obtain  help  from  a  society  as  to  my 
locum  tenens.  That  clears  away  one  obstacle.  Dr. 
Eandall  suggested  it,  and  kindly  took  steps  in  the 
matter,  bringing  me  a  quick  answer  by  private 
interest,  as  to  what  I  might  hope  for.  With  that 
help,  I  think  my  stipend  and  what  is  laid  by  will 
make  the  winter  in  Cannes  a  possibility — for  me." 

Katie  did  not  notice  the  slight  stress  on  the  last 
word.  "And  that  will  make  you  quite  strong  again, 
father  ? " 

"  I  hope  it  may,  dear,"  he  answered.  "  But,  Katie 
— about  yourself " 

"  I  must  go  too,  of  course,  to  take  care  of  you." 

"  Impossible,  my  dear  child.     The  cost " 

.    She  gave  one  start. 

"  That  was  my  second  great  difficulty.  I  wrote  at 
once  to  your  uncle  Thornton,  and  he  has  answered 
most  kindly,  offering  you  a  home  for  at  least  the 
greater  part  of  my  absence.  If  it  should  not  be 
quite  convenient  to  him  and  his  wife  to  have  you  all 
the  while,  Mrs.  Carrington  will  take  you  in.  You 
remember  her  name  ? " 

"  Aunt  Euth's  sister,"  murmured  Kate. 

"  Yes ;  they  live  near  together  at  Penshurst.  Dear 
Katie,  I  can't  tell  you  what  the  thought  of  the  part- 


KATIE'S  HOME.  17 


ing  is  to  me.  But  it  does  seem  arranged  for  us.  It 
seems  as  if  I  should  be  wrong  not  to  go,  after  all  Dr. 
Eandall  said;  and  six  months  will  very  soon  pass. 
You  will  be  a  brave  child,  and,  after  all,  you  will 
enjoy  being  with  your  cousins,  having  young  com- 
panions, and  seeing  a  little  of  life.  It  will  be  good 
for  you,  my  child." 

"  Yes,  father."  Katie  spoke  calmly ;  and  he  could 
not  see  her  pale  dazed  look. 

"  So  we  will  make  the  best  of  it,  won'c  we  ?  Dr. 
Eandall  said  I  must  avoid  agitation ;  and  I  do  feel 
that  I  am  not  equal  to  it.  We  will  both  be  brave, 
darling.  It  is  God's  will  for  us,  and  it  must  be 
right.  Think  how  much  we  shall  have  to  say  when 
we  meet  again.  Besides,  we  shall  write  very  often  ; 
and  I  have  not  to  go  for  another  month  or  six  weeks. 
Plenty  of  time  to  get  used  to  the  thought." 

Katie  had  had  as  mucli  as  she  could  endure. 
"  Yes,  father,"  she  said,  "  there  will  be  a  great  deal 
to  do.  And  now  I'm  going  to — to — see  about  your 
tea," 

But  seeing  about  the  tea  did  not  come  first.  Katie 
slipped  out  of  the  room,  and  fled  upstairs  to  her  own. 
There  she  stood,  looking  out  on  one  corner  of  the 
sleepy  little  village,  and  on  the  great  square  tower 
of  the  old  church.  A  cornfield  lay  beyond,  and  to 
the  right,  as  she  stood,  she  could  see  the  top  of  the 


1 8  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

nearest  sand-dunes,  on  the  other  side  of  which  rolled 
the  waters  of  the  German  Ocean. 

Katie  gazed  and  gazed,  till  her  eyes  were  blinded 
with  tears,  and  she  clasped  her  hands  and  held  them 
out,  with  one  smothered  cry,  "0  father,  father, 
father !  I  don't  know  how  to  live  without  you ! " 


CHAPTER  IT. 
MA  TCH-BO  XES. 

'  to  France,  indeed !     I  know  what  that 

means.     It's  the  way  of  'em.     Send  him 
x 

off  when  there's  nothing  more  to  be  done, 

to  die  alone  in  a  furrin'  country,  and  ne'er  a  friend 
to  speak  a  word  o'  comfort.  That's  what  it'll  be. 
There's  no  sort  of  folly  in  life  folks  ain't  capable 
of — more  especial  when  it's  a-flying  in  the  face  of 
Providence.  If  master  goes  to  them  furriii'  parts, 
he'll  never  come  back  no  more." 

Katie  had  gone  into  the  kitchen  next  morning  to 
"  order  dinner,"  which  meant  to  hear  Deb's  intentions 
about  dinner.  Deb,  having  held  the  little  Katie  in 
her  arms,  washed,  nursed,  petted,  and  scolded  her  at 
will,  had  no  notion  now  of  taking  orders  from  her. 
Katie  knew  better  than  to  give  orders.  She  only 
stood  in  the  daintily  clean  kitchen,  and  asked 
meekly,  "  What  shall  we  have  to-day,  Deb  ? "  And 
Deb  concisely  said  what  she  meant  to  do.  After  all, 


20  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

nobody  knew  better  than  Deb  what  was  needed, 
and  what  could  be  afforded ;  only  sometimes  Deb's 
temper  gained  the  upper  hand  of  her  wish  to 
please. 

That  very  simple  matter,  "to-day's  dinner,"  being 
settled,  Katie  falteringly  told  Deb  what  she  had 
heard  the  afternoon  before.  Deb,  not  gratified  that 
"  the  child  "  should  have  been  informed  on  so  weighty 
a  matter  before  herself,  and  feeling  the  important 
question  of  her  own  future  put  into  the  background 
— though  she  would  have  been  the  first  to  put  it 
there,  had  somebody  else  brought  it  forward — 
answered  a"s  above. 

Poor  Katie  listened  with  a  heavy  heart.  She 
knew  what  Deb's  predictions  were  worth,  and  could 
quite  allow  for  Deb's  irritability;  yet  the  words 
were  such  as  she  could  hardly  bear  to  hear.  A  mist 
came  over  her  eyes,  and  a  choking  into  her  throat, 
as  she  leant  against  the  dresser.  "  Oh,  Deb,  don't," 
she  said  once  or  twice ;  and  at  the  end, — "  But  Dr. 
Eandall  thinks  it  will  do  father  good,  and  \ve  must 
try  it ;  you  know  we  must." 

Yes,  Deb  knew  that,  and  she  knew  she  had  said 
cruel  words  to  the  young  girl  in  her  foolish  vexation. 
But  Deb  never  seemed  to  think  it  necessary  to  con- 
quer this  troublesome  temper.  It  was  "  only  her 
way,"  she  said;  and  she  held  the  absurd  theorv  held 


MATCH-BOXES.  21 


self-comfortingly  by  many  irritable  people,  that  a 
sharp  temper  is  the  token  of  a  fine  character. 

Katie  could  not  trust  herself  to  discuss  the  matter 
with  Deb.  She  went  away  to  her  own  room,  and 
did  not  venture  downstairs  again  for  some  time. 
Mr.  Balfour  seemed  to  be  waiting  about  for  her  when 
she  appeared. 

"Come,  Katie,"  he  said,  with  a  glance  at  the 
reddened  eyelids,  "  I  think  we  will  have  a  little 
stroll  on  the  shore.  I  feel  unsettled,  and  I  shall 
write  my'  sermon  the  better  afterwards.  They  say 
there  has  been  a  wreck  near — some  small  merchant- 
man, I  fancy." 

"The  wind  was  so  high  last  night,"  Katie  said, 
thinking  how  she  had  lain  awake,  listening  to  it,  for 
once  hardly  remembering  the  perils  of  those  at  sea 
in  her  own  new  sorrow. 

A  straw  hat  hung  within  easy  reach,  and  no  other 
"  dressing "  was  needful.  They  were  soon  passing 
down  the  one  tiny  irregular  street  leading  shore- 
wards — hardly  a  street  so  much  as  a  loose  group 
of  cottages.  The  ground  really  did  slope  a  little 
here,  so  that  it  might  fairly  be  termed  "going 
down."  But  the  country  around  was  flat  as  a  pan- 
cake. 

An  opening  in  the  sand-dunes  admitted  them  to 
the  level  sandy  beach.  The  wind  blew  rather 


22  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 


strongly  still,  and  the  waves  were  tumbling  busily 
about  at  half-low  tide.  Two  or  three  fishing-boats 
stood  above  high-tide  mark,  and  two  or  three  fisher- 
men lounged  listlessly  near.  Mr.  Balfour  gave  the 
men  a  kind  word  in  passing,  and  received  a  curt 
acknowledgment  of  the  same.  These  folks  of  Eck- 
ham  were  not  genial-mannered.  Mr.  Balfour  sighed 
as  he  passed  on. 

"  Will  any  of  them  care,  Katie  ?  " 

"  Oh,  father — after  all  these  years  !  They  must 
be  sorry  when  they  know." 

"I  cannot  tell.  I  seem  to  have  made  no  mark 
here.  Years  of  work,  and  no  result.  Last  night 
those  words  so  haunted  me,  'I  have  laboured  in 
vain, — and  spent  my  strength  for  nought.' " 

A  glow  came  to  Katie's  cheeks.  "  You  know  what 
comes  next,"  she  said,  "don't  you,  father?" 

Mr.  Balfour  hesitated.  "No,  I  could  not  recall. 
My  memory  often  fails  me  now." 

"'Yet  surely  my  judgment  is  with  the  Lord,  and 
my  work  with  my  God.' "  Katie's  clear  tones  had  a 
ring  of  heart-cheer  in  them. 

"Yes,  yes — true — I  forgot.  One  cannot  decide 
as  to  one's  self,  or  others.  But  He  understands — 
perfectly.  Thank  you,  Katie ;  that  ought  to  comfort 
your  old  father.  I  have  tried  to  carry  out  His  will, 
and  I  will  leave  results  with  Him.  See,  there  has 


MATCH-BOXES.  23 


been  a  wreck.  How  singular !  I  never  saw  quite 
such  a  sight  before." 

On  the  beach,  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  there 
lay  along  high-water  mark  a  wavy  line  of  match- 
boxes. Small  boxes  all  of  them,  uniform  in  shape 
and  pattern,  not  so  large  as  the  "  Bryant  and  May's," 
strewn  in  countless  thousands;  here  whole  still  by 
scores,  there  by  scores  torn  open,  the  discoloured 
matches  in  multitudes  keeping  up  the  line.  Mingled 
with  the  match-box  cargo  were  seaweeds — little  red 
weeds,  and  long  ribbon  weeds — and  now  and  then,  at 
intervals,  might  be  found  a  plank  or  a  broken  spar. 

Side  by  side,  slowly,  Mr.  Balfour  and  Katie  fol- 
lowed the  slender  line  of  wreckage,  left  by  the 
waves  in  their  retreat.  For  ten  minutes  or  more 
the  two  walked  on,  facing  the  gusty  breeze,  and 
presently  a  small  mast  was  visible,  tossed  up  on  the 
sands.  And  still,  far  ahead,  extended  that  thin 
waved  line  of  broken  and  unbroken  match-boxes. 

"From  Sweden,  I  suppose;  this  is  Swedish,"  Mr. 
Balfour  said,  standing  still  to  examine  a  box  which 
Katie  had  picked  up.  He  spoke  rather  breathlessly. 

"Father,  I  wonder  if  any  of  the  sailors  were 
lost  ? " 

"  I  wonder  whether  any  of  them  were  saved,  my 
dear  ?  After  all,  there  are  worse  troubles  in  the 
world  than  ours  ! " 


24  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

Katie  thought  of  Deb's  words.  "  If  only  we  were 
a  little  richer,"  she  said,  sighing. 

"  Yes ;  then  you  could  couie  with  me.  But 
suppose  you  are  wanted  at  Penshurst?  Sup- 
pose there  is  some  little  work  for  you  to  do  there  ? 
It  may  be  so.  I  think  we  will  go  home  now, 
dear." 

"  Kath  is  my  own  age,  isn't  she  ? "  said  Katie, 
after  a  pause. 

"  To  the  day.  That  was  partly  why  you  both 
received  the  same  name." 

"  I  can  just  remember  seeing  them  all ;  but  it  was 
so  long  ago.  Grace  was  the  nicest,  I  think ;  only, 
being  four  years  older  made  her  seem  almost  grown- 
up. Bessie  and  Winnie  teased  me,  but  Kath  and  I 
were  friends,  rather.  I  wonder  if  I  shall  be  afraid 
of  them  all  now  ?" 

"You  will  soon  get  over  the  feeling  of  strange- 
ness. Of  course  there  may  be  little  rubs  and 
trials,"  Mr.  Balfour  said  thoughtfully.  "  Set  one 
thing  before  you,  Katie, — never  to  forget  Whose 
servant  you  are,  and  never  to  be  ashnmed  of  that 
service.  Others  may  do  or  say  tilings  you  believe 
to  be  wrong,  and  you  have  not  to  judge  them  ; 
but  never  be  drawn  yourself  into  going  against  your 
own  conscience." 

"  No,  father." 


MATCH-BOXES.  25 


"  I  think  you  will  like  to  see  Mrs.  Carrington's 
letter  to  me.  Here  it  is." 

He  did  not  offer  to  show  his  own  brother's  letter, 
and  Katie  was  conscious  of  the  omission,  as  she 
read : — 

"  THE  NUTSHELL,  PENSHURST,  Tuesday. 

"  DEAK  STEPHEN, — It  is  long  since  I  heard  from 
or  of  you,  .but  I  have  not  forgotten  my  old  friend 
of  childish  days.  Thornton  has  told  me  of  your 
trouble,  and  I  sincerely  feel  for  you. 

"  I  dare  say  you  are  aware  that  I  lost  my  dear 
husband  two  years  ago,  and  that  I  have  since  then 
settled  down  within  reach  of  my  sister  and  her 
husband.  They  tell  me  your  daughter  will  spend 
the  time  of  your  absence  with  them.  Quite  right 
that  she  should. 

"  I  have,  however,  one  microscopic  spare  room, 
and  if  at  any  time  it  should  prove  not  quite  con- 
venient to  my  sister  to  have  your  Katherine, — or 
if  she  would  like  it  herself,  for  any  other  reason, 
— she  shall  come  to  me.  Only  she  would  have  to 
put  up  with  Life  in  a  Nutshell.  The  name  of 
this  '  bit  hoose '  is  my  own  fancy.  It  seemed 
appropriate,  my  brother  having  chosen  to  call  his 
<  The  Walnuts.' 

"  At  all  events,  if  Katherine  comes,  I  will  pro- 


26  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

mise  her  a  kind  welcome,  for  the  sake  of  my  old 
friend,  her  dear  father.  So  believe  me  still,  yours 
sincerely,  C.  CARKINGTON." 

"  Father,  she  must  be  nice." 

"  She  was ;  but  I  have  not  seen  Charlotte  Carring- 
ton  for  years — '  Chattie '  every  one  called  her." 

"  And  she  lives  alone,  I  suppose,  at  that  house — 
what  an  odd  name !— '  The  Nutshell.' " 

"  She  has  one  son,"  said  Mr.  Balfour. 


CHAPTER  III. 
AT  "THE  WALNUTS." 

[ESSIE  !     How  you  do  plague ! " 

"But,  Winnie,  you  have  no  business  to 
draw  on  this  table." 

"  I've  as  much  business  as  you, — so  there  !" 

"  I  always  keep  my  Shoe  Club  and  Library  ac- 
counts here.  You  must  move." 

"You  can  take  your  accounts  somewhere  else. 
There's  not  light  enough  anywhere  else  for  drawing. 
Now  then !  Saint  Elizabeth  in  a  passion ! " 

Winifred  leant  back  in  her  chair  with  an  exas- 
perating laugh.  She  was  about  seventeen  years  old, 
plain-featured  and  angular,  and  in  a  manner  sturdily 
wilful.  By  her  side  stood  another  girl,  three  or  four 
years  her  senior ;  tall  and  rather  thin,  with  a  long 
nose  and  a  low  forehead — not  classically  low,  but 
low  merely  because  it  was  not  high — and  a  generally 
uncomfortable  expression ;  disturbed,  restless,  almost 


28  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

unhappy.  Vexation  was  plainly  written  at  this 
moment  on  lips  and  brow. 

"I  can't  possibly  move  them  all.  Everything  is 
together  in  these  drawers.  And  it  is  nonsense  about 
the  light.  You  could  see  better  in  the  bow  window. 
I  must  get  things  done  this  afternoon." 

"  Very  well.     Get  them  done." 

Winnie  bent  over  her  drawing,  and  Elizabeth's 
hand  came  on  the  sheet,  moving  it  slightly.  Winnie 
flashed  up  with  a  look  of  fury. 

"  Bessie !     You  dare !     If  you  do,  I'll  tell  father." 

"  Tell  him  anything  you  like.  This  is  my  place, 
Winnie." 

"  How  you  two  do  go  on ! "  a  distressed  voice  said 
from  the  bow  window  of  which  Elizabeth  had  spoken. 
Grace  Balfour,  eldest  of  four  sisters,  lay  there  on  a 
couch,  her  thin  cheeks  and  white  hands  telling  of 
illness.  She  had  large  blue  eyes,  bright  still,  and 
must  have  been  very  pretty  in  health,  though  almost 
too  wasted  now  for  beauty.  "  It  is  like  two  chil- 
dren. Winnie,  do  come  away,  and  let  Bessie  have 
the  table.  You  know  she  always  does  sit  there, 
and  it  is  tiresome  having  to  move  everything." 

"  I  don't  see  why  it  is  more  tiresome  for  her  than 
for  me,"  said  Winnie,  in  a  sulky  voice. 

" But  the  light  here  is  quite  as  good;  and  I  like 
to  have  you  near  me." 


AT  "THE  WALNUTS."  29 

"  I  don't  believe  you  do."  Nevertheless,  Winifred 
actually  rose,  gathered  together  her  drawing  mate- 
rials, and  marched  into  the  bow  window,  her  vacated 
seat  being  occupied  at  once  by  Elizabeth,  in  severe 
silence.  "  She  might  have  said  '  Thank  you,'  "  mut- 
tered Winnie,  in  a  disgusted  tone ;  "  but  that  isn't  a 
part  of  religion,  I  suppose." 

"  Hush,  Winnie !  you  must  not  say  such  things." 
Grace  turned  her  face  away,  sighing. 

Winnie  sat  looking  at  her.  •'  Are  you  in  bad  pain 
this  afternoon,  Gracie  ?  " 

"  Yes."     The  voice  told  of  threatening  tears. 

"  Can't  anything  be  got  ?     Where's  Katli  ? " 

"Father  wanted  her.  She  will  be  in  soon.  I 
must  just  bear  it." 

"  Where's  the  pain  ?     Your  chest  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Winnie  did  not  seem  to  know  what  else  to  do  or 
say.  Elizabeth  uttered  not  a  word.  She  was  stoop- 
ing over  her  account-books,  with  rounded  shoulders, 
and  a  look  of  gloom  still  upon  her  face.  Then  the 
door  opened,  and  another  sister  came  in — a  girl  of 
about  eighteen,  with  a  slight  figure  and  a  face  not 
exactly  beautiful,  but  sweet  and  bright  and  intensely 
lovable.  People  often  called  Kath  Balfour  "lovely," 
and  she  really  was  that.  The  features  were  soft  in 
outline,  good  enough  to  be  set  off  by  a  fair  clear 


3o  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

complexion ;  the  light  brown  hair  clustered  in  curly 
rings  round  a  straight  white  brow ;  and  the  grey 
eyes,  if  neither  dark  nor  large,  were  full  of  light  and 
tenderness.  So  no  wonder  Kath  won  admiration. 

She  cast  one  look  at  Elizabeth,  and  the  corners  of 
her  mouth  gave  an  involuntary  twitch,  as  if  of  amuse- 
ment ;  then  one  look  at  Grace,  and  the  same  rosy 
lips  grew  pitiful  and  sad.  Kath  came  straight  to 
the  sofa,  bent  over  it,  kissed  Grace,  and  altered  the 
arrangement  of  the  pillows.  "Is  that  better?"  she 
asked. 

"  Yes.     You  always  know  how,  Kath." 

"  Of  course  I  do.  And  you  have  chest-ache  and 
back-ache,  and  you  would  like  the  comfort  of  a  good 
cry,  wouldn't  you  ? "  said  Kath  lovingly. 

A  sob  came  in  answer.  Kath  laid  her  soft  cheek 
beside  Grace's,  and  comforted  her  with  touch  and 
whisper  till  something  of  a  smile  became  possible. 

"Where's  mother?"  she  asked  then. 

"Gone  a  round  of  calls,"  said  Winnie.  "She 
wanted  Bessie  with  her,  and  Bessie  would  not  go." 

"  I  could  not,"  Elizabeth's  voice  said,  with  a  kind 
of  injured  protest. 

"  And  who  is  going  to  meet  Katie  ? " 

General  silence. 

"  You  know  what  father  said  at  breakfast  about 
his  engagement,  and  depending  on  us.  I  would 


AT  "THE  WALNUTS."  31 

go, — only  I  should  like  to  stay  in  and  see  after 
Gracie." 

Grace  looked  very  wistful.     "  Bessie,  can't  you  ? " 

"  I  can't  possibly.  I  have  all  these  accounts  to 
make  up  to-day.  Why  can't  Kath  or  Winnie  go  ? 
Or  why  must  anybody  ? " 

"  Nice  sort  of  welcome,"  said  Winnie.  "  After 
what  father  said,  too."  She  looked  at  Grace's  long- 
ing eyes,  and  at  Kath's  figure  leaning  over  the 
sofa,  then  rather  indignantly  at  Bessie.  "  Not 
much  use  in  being  a  saint,  if  it  means  never  doing 
anything  that  anybody  wants,"  she  muttered,  start- 
ing up.  "  I  shall  get  into  disgrace  to-morrow  if  this 
isn't  done.  But  it  doesn't  matter.  Yes,  I'll  go. 
What  o'clock.  Five  !  Why,  I  shall  only  be  just  in 
time.  I  hope  Saint  Elizabeth's  accounts  will  come 
square.  It's  more  than  they  deserve  to  do." 

Elizabeth  heard  in  silence,  with  a  species  of 
martyr-look.  She  counted  herself  something  of  a 
martyr,  ascribing  all  this  to  her  more  distinctly  reli- 
gious profession,  and  not  at  all  to  her  less  obliging 
ways  than  those  of  her  sisters.  Winnie  meantime 
rushed  away,  childlike  in  movement  still,  and  angry 
at  feeling  herself  compelled  to  volunteer. 

As  she  had  said,  there  was  no  time  to  be  lost. 
Mr.  Thornton  Balfour's  house,  "  The  Walnuts,"  stood 
near  the  higher  end  of  a  long  valley,  half-way  up 


32  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

one  of  its  sides.  This  valley  had  been  once,  many 
years  earlier,  a  private  park  belonging  to  a  single 
large  mansion ;  but  it  was  now  pretty  well  lined  on 
both  sides  with  red  houses  in  neat  gardens.  The 
station  lay  at  the  farther  and  lower  end,  some  fifteen 
minutes'  quick  walk  distant. 

Winnie  threw  on  hat  and  jacket,  and  started  off 
at  a  rapid  pace  down  the  dusty  road.  One  or  two 
friends,  encountered  by  the  way,  received  a  nod  of 
recognition.  Not  far  from  the  station  a  neat  little 
pony  carriage,  drawn  by  one  brown  pony,  and  con- 
taining a  rather  stout  and  rather  handsome  lady  of 
middle  age,  drew  up  suddenly. 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Winnie  ?  " 

"  To  meet  Katie,  mother." 

"  I  should  not  have  thought  that  necessary." 

"  Father  said  somebody  must,  and  Bessie  wouldn't." 

The  lady's  fine  dark  eyes  showed  displeasure. 

"  Bessie  is  becoming  perfectly  useless  since  she 
took  up  all  this  parish  work.  Is  your  drawing 
done?" 

"  Couldn't,"  said  Winnie  concisely. 

"  I  have  a  great  mind  to  take  you  straight  home. 
It  is  absurd,"  Mrs.  Balfour  said,  frowning.  "  Why 
cannot  Kate  manage  for  herself  ? " 

"  Father  said  somebody  must  go." 

"  Then  don't  be  long.     I  particularly  wish  you  to 


AT  "THE  WALNUTS."  33 

get  that  drawing  finished.  Kate  will  probably  have 
a  fly  for  her  luggage,  and  of  course  you  will  return 
with  her." 

"  Father  said  at  breakfast,  that  if  the  pony  car- 
riage couldn't  go,  we  were  to  have  a  fly,  and  pay 
for  it." 

"Very  absurd  and  unnecessary,"  said  Mrs.  Bal- 
four.  After  which  she  drove  on,  and  Winnie  per- 
formed the  rest  of  her  way  at  a  semi-gallop,  rushing 
upon  the  platform  in  a  breathless  and  dishevelled 
condition,  as  the  train  steamed  slowly  up. 

A  minute  of  confusion,  and  Winnie  found  herself 
near  a  young  girl,  lady-like,  but  plainly  dressed, 
and  with  a  certain  unsophisticated  air,  which  the 
town-bred  maiden  recognised  at  once.  She  seemed 
bewildered,  and  was  looking  from  side  to  side  for- 
lornly. 

"  Are  you  Katie  ? "  a  voice  asked. 

"  I'm  Katie  Balfour.     And  you ? " 

"  I'm  Winnie.  How  do  you  do  ?  The  others 
were  too  busy  to  come, — at  least  Kath  was,  and 
Bessie  made  believe  to  be,  and  Gracie,  of  course,  is 
ill.  So  there  was  only  me.  Where  is  your  luggage  ? 
How  many  trunks  ?  Only  one !  Well,  we  must 
have  a  fly.  It  is  a  good  distance,  and  uphill,  too." 

After  some  waiting,  the  box  appeared,  hauled 
out  from  among  a  medley  of  trunks  and  bags. 


34  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

Penshurst  Station  was  not  peculiarly  noisy  or  bust- 
ling for  a  station  in  the  near  neighbourhood  of 
London,  but  to  Katie  all  seemed  a  whirl  of  con- 
fusion. Winifred  managed  for  her  in  business-like 
style:  hailed  a  cab;  desired  a  porter  to  bring  out 
the  box ;  paid  him  twopence ;  and  ordered  the  cab- 
man to  drive  to  "Mr.  Balfour's — the  Walnuts;" 
after  which  they  set  off. 

"  Father  thought  you  were  living  in  the  country," 
remarked  Katie;  "but  I  suppose  we  go  through  a 
part  of  London  first." 

Winnie's  eyes  opened  widely.  "  You've  just  been 
through  London  on  your  way  here,"  she  said.  "  We're 
a  good  twenty  minutes  outside  London.  This  is 
country." 

"  But  there  are  so  many  houses,"  objected  Katie. 
"  It  is  all  houses." 

"They've  been  building  a  good  deal.  Why,  this 
is  nothing,"  said  Winnie,  in  danger  of  an  explosion 
of  laughter.  "  Nothing,"  she  repeated  emphatically. 
"  You  should  have  seen  our  Westbourne  house,  be- 
fore we  came  to  Penshurst.  That  was  town,  and  no 
mistake.  We  call  this  country.  Of  course  there 
are  plenty  of  houses  and  people,  and  things  doing. 
And  London  is  near.  It's  not  being  buried  alive. 
I  should  think  you  were  pretty  well  buried  in 
Norfolk." 


AT  "THE  WALNUTS."  35 

If  so,  Katie  did  not  as  yet  find  disentombment 
a  lively  process.  Her  heart  went  back  with  aching 
desire  to  the  dear  old  Eectory  and  its  "  buried " 
surroundings. 

"  Mother  would  rather  be  in  London,  but  father 
likes  this  best.  Mother  thinks  it  too  dull  and  quiet. 
We  came  to  Penslmrst  three  years  ago — nearly  four ; 
and  the  place  has  grown  ever  so  much  lately ;  all 
that  row  of  houses  up  there,  in  front  of  us,  is  quite 
new.  Oh,  and  look  this  side, — Aunt  Chattie's?  " 

"  Mrs.  Carrington  ? " 

"  Yes ;  her  house.  She's  a  dear  thing,  only  rather 
odd  in  some  ways.  We  don't  like  her  being  in  that 
queer  little  house — much,"  said  Winnie.  "Didn't 
you  see  ?  It's  called  '  The  Nutshell ' ;  and  it  is  the 
most  ridiculous  little  concern  ;  only  one  storey  high ; 
and  only  four  or  five  tiny  rooms.  One  sittiug-room, 
and  the  kitchen,  and  three  bed-rooms,  and  a  box- 
closet,  hardly  big  enough  to  be  called  a  room.  It 
was  a  fancy  of  hers  to  go  there,  when  uncle  died, 
and  she  came  home  from  India.  She  wanted  to  be 
near  us,  and  she  said  she  couldn't  afford  anything 
bigger.  More  like  a  cottage  than  a  house.  Father 
says  it  must  have  been  the  lodge  to  the  estate,  when 
all  this  valley  was  a  great  park  belonging  to  one 
person.  He  wonders  that  'The  Nutshell'  was  never 
pulled  down.  Auut  Chattie  lives  there  now,  how- 


36  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

ever;  and  Harold  never  will  say  he  minds  it.  I 
think  he  ought.  Of  course  he  isn't  often  at  home, 
but  when  he  is,  he  must  hate  such  a  poky  place. 
We  all  wish  she  would  make  a  change.  It  is  nice 
to  have  Aunt  Chattie  near  us ;  but  still  we  don't 
like  her  being  there.  Our  friends  must  think  it  so 
odd." 

"  I  don't  see  why, — if  the  house  is  large  enough," 
said  Katie. 

"  Oh,  I  suppose  it  is  large  enough, — in  a  way, — 
just  for  her  and  one  maid.  But  it  is  hardly  like  a 
lady's  house.  It  is  more  like  a  cottage.  She  might 
afford  something  better,  if  she  chose.  Mother  says 
so.  She  says  it  is  just  a  fad  of  Aunt  Chattie's — 
always  to  be  talking  about  '  life  in  a  nutshell '  too ! 
I  almost  wish  father  hadn't  named  our  house  '  The 
Walnuts.'  Mother  wanted  it  called  'The  Elms'; 
and  father  said  that  was  so  dreadfully  suburban. 
We  have  two  walnut-trees  in  our  garden,  so  he 
thought  that  would  be  more  uncommon.  I  wish  he 
hadn't." 

Kate  could  only  ask,  "  Why  ? " 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  Can't  you  see?  Walnuts 
and  Nuts  seem  to  belong  together,  and  we  don't  like 
to  belong  to  that  queer  little  low-roofed  concern.  I 
can't  explain,  if  you  don't  understand.  You'll  know 
better  when  you  see  Aunt  Chattie.  She's  not  a  bit 


AT  "THE  WALNUTS."  37 

like  mother,  and  very  religious.  So  is  Bessie,  only 
in  a  different  sort  of  way.  You've  got  to  learn  to 
know  us  all.  What  a  good  thing  you  were  always 
called  'Katie/  and  our  Katharine  is  always  called 
'  Kath.'  Ic  saves  a  muddle." 


CHAPTEE  IV. 
SOMETHING  TO  DO. 

??5EjSj^jHE  first  evening  of  Katie's  stay  at  "  The 

2*k|«s     Walnuts"  was  over;  and  she  found  her- 
^V^K_A.     gej£  aj.  }agj.  a]one  jn  the  sma]|  bedroom 

assigned  to  her  use. 

It  was  a  very  small  bedroom,  and  a  shabby  one 
too;  for  though  there  were  two  good  spare  rooms 
on  the  floor  below,  Mrs.  Balfour  had  decided  that 
this  little  ill-furnished  apartment  was  "  quite  good 
enough  for  only  Kate  Balfour."  And  it  was  "  at 
last,"  for  Katie  had  never  in  her  life  gone  through 
so  lengthy  and  dull  an  evening.  .  Measuring  the 
six  mouths  ahead  by  the  slow  hours  just  passed, 
they  seemed  a  life-time,  absolutely  interminable. 
We  are  so  apt  to  forget  that  the  longest  part  of  any 
given  time  lies  almost  always  at  the  beginning. 

It  was  not  that  everybody  had  not  shown  kind- 
ness, more  or  less.  Mr.  Balfour  had  bestowed  quite 

a  cordial  greeting  on  his  only  brother's  only  child, 

38 


SOMETHING  TO  DO.  39 

saying  repeatedly  how  very  glad  he  was  to  see  her. 
Katie  appreciated  his  warmth  ;  yet  somehow  "  Uncle 
Thornton  "  turned  out  to  be  not  at  all  what  she  had 
expected.  He  was  such  a  little  bustling,  excitable 
man;  and  everybody  seemed  so  very  much  afraid 
of  offending  him.  No  lack  of  kindness  lay  in  that 
direction  ;  but  it  was  rather  an  odd  sort  of  kindness, 
involving  much  talk  about  himself.  He  evidently 
liked  a  good  show  of  gratitude,  and  expected  every- 
thing to  be  done  in  exactly  his  own  way.  Katie  felt 
oppressed  by  his  very  cordiality. 

Mrs.  Balfour  was  neither  small  nor  cordial. 
Eather  tall,  decidedly  stout,  and  markedly  hand- 
some, so  far  as  features  alone  were  concerned,  she 
seemed  to  give  way  to  her  husband  in  everything, 
yet  held  the  household  reins  firmly  in  her  large 
plump  white  hands.  Katie  had  not  been  five  minutes 
in  Mrs.  Balfour's  presence,  before  she  knew  herself 
to  be  an  undesired  addition  to  the  household.  It 
was  a  terribly  painful  feeling,  but  there  was  no 
putting  it  aside ;  and  with  the  sense  of  unwelcome 
came  also  a  sense  of  something  like  fear  towards 
Mrs.  Balfour.  Katie  knew  that  she  would  dread 
greatly  having  to  oppose  her  aunt's  will 

The  evening  had  passed,  as  I  have  already  said, 
very  tardily,  very  drearily.  Kath's  sunshiny  face 
won  Katie's  heart  more  than  any  other  in  the 


40  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

household;  but  Grace  was  upstairs,  more  ill  than 
usual,  and  Kath  could  not  leave  her.  Bessie  spent 
the  evening  over  her  Library  and  Shoe  Club  ac- 
counts, frowning  grimly  in  the  endeavour  to  make 
them  come  right.  Winnie  was  trying  somewhat 
fractiously  to  draw  by  gaslight.  Mr.  Balfour,  after 
a  few  remarks,  went  sound  asleep,  a  little  figure  in 
a  very  big  arm-chair.  Mrs.  Balfour  sat  opposite, 
reading  a  yellow-backed  novel,  and  being  by  way 
of  contrast  a  voluminous  figure  in  a  very  small 
easy  chair.  Katie  longed  to  retire,  but  was  too 
shy  to  ask  leave,  and  the  family  did  not  break  up 
until  half-past  ten. 

"I  dare  say  everything  is  right  in  your  room, 
Kate,"  Mrs.  Balfour  said  then,  standing  up,  with 
a  yawn.  "  If  not,  you  must  tell  the  girls,  or  ring." 
She  gave  her  hand,  evidently  not  counting  a  kiss 
necessary.  "  Good-night.  Winnie,  you  are  to  go  to 
bed  directly.  It  is  an  hour  past  your  time ;  and 
drawing  by  gas-light  is  no  use.  You  ought  not  to 
have  been  out  this  afternoon.  Bessie,  I  can't  have 
you  sit  up  late.  Oh  dear,  how  tired  I  am ! " 

So  was  Katie,  but  no  one  seemed  to  remark  it. 
She  took  the  candle  pointed  out  as  her  own,  and 
went  wearily  upstairs  to  her  little  bedroom.  Her 
box,  half  unpacked,  lay  open ;  her  things  were 
scattered  about,  as  she  had  left  them,  when  some- 


SOMETHING  TO  DO.  41 

what  hurriedly  dressing  for  late  dinner.  A  jug  of 
almost  cold  water  stood  in  the  basin :  and  the  Vene- 
tian blind  had  not  been  lowered.  Servants  are 
quick  to  see  when  a  guest  is  not  honoured,  and 
too  often  drawing-room  neglect  finds  a  downstairs 
echo. 

Katie  was  not  fussy  or  over-sensitive,  but  the 
general  feeling  of  being  imwelcomed  weighed  upon 
her  heavily  ;  and  she  was  very  tired,  almost  too 
much  so  to  make  up  her  mind  to  unpack  or  undress. 
The  parting  with  her  father,  kept  resolutely  all  day 
in  the  background,  now  rushed  in  upon  her  with 
a  great  flood-tide  of  sorrow.  It  was  the  first  even- 
ing for  many  long  years  that  she  had  not  had  his 
good-night  kiss. 

The  pain  grew  and  grew,  as  Katie  stood  at  the 
unbliuded  window,  looking  out.  She  could  see  the 
lights  glittering  in  many  houses,  late  though  it 
was,  all  the  way  down  the  length  of  the  Penshurst 
valley ;  and  coloured  station  lights,  in  the  distance, 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  valley  ;  and  heaven's  lamps 
twinkling  softly  overhead.  These  last  her  father 
might  be  watching  also  ;  but  not  the  others.  He 
and  she  had  a  different  outlook  now,  so  far  as 
earthly  things  were  concerned.  And  every  day 
would  make  the  parting  worse,  as  he  travelled 
south,  widening  the  distance  which  divided  the  two. 


42  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

And  if  he  should  never  return, — if  Deb's  foretellings 
should  come  true ! 

Katie  could  not  face  that  thought.  She  dashed 
aside  some  heavy  drops,  and  began  taking  off  her 
dress.  But  grief  was  not  to  be  so  easily  kept 
down.  Having  put  a  few  things  straight,  and 
hung  up  her  dress,  and  let  her  brown  hair  flow 
over  her  white  dressing-gown,  she  took  out  her 
little  Bible,  and  sat  down  to  read.  There  com- 
posure failed. 

It  was  the  one  touch  of  association  too  keen. 
Katie's  dim  eyes  could  make  out  no  word  of  the 
print.  She  closed  the  Book,  and  knelt  down  to 
pray ;  but,  instead  of  prayer,  there  came  a  burst 
of  weeping,  a  bitter  anguish  of  sobs.  The  lone- 
liness was  overpowering.  No  one  to  help ;  no  one 
to  care;  no  one  to  comfort!  "Father!  father!" 
broke  from  her  repeatedly.  Katie  almost  felt  that 
she  could  not  bear  it,  could  not  stand  the  part- 
ing, could  not  endure  the  present  isolation.  Would 
nobody  ever  love  her  here  ?  Must  she  stand 
alone,  uncared-for;  an  intruder,  tolerated  from 
necessity,  but  only  looked  upon  as  a  burden  and 
a  trouble. 

"  Poor  dear  ! "  a  soft  voice  said. 

Katie  had  not  seen  Kath  enter;  had  not  heard 
repeated  knockings  at  her  door.  She  only  felt  now 


SOMETHING  TO  DO.  43 

a  pair  of  warm  hands  clasping  her  cold  ones,  and 
kind  lips  kissing  her  flushed  cheek. 

"  You  poor  Katie  ! "  the  voice  repeated.  "  Gracie 
was  quite  unhappy.  She  and  I  sleep  just  under- 
neath, you  know.  Katie,  don't  cry.  It  will  be  all 
right  by-and-by.  And  you  will  soon  know  us. 
Don't  cry,  dear.  Yes,  I  know.  It's  dreadfully  hard 
to  say  good-bye  to  your  father ;  of  course  it  is.  But 
he'll  come  back  in  the  spring,  looking  so  well,  you'll 
be  quite  glad  he  went ;  and  how  nice  that  will  be ! 
Don't  cry,  Katie." 

The  very  sweetness  of  that  reiterated  "  Don't  cry!" 
made  Katie's  tears  at  first  come  faster;  but  before 
long  she  managed  to  whisper,  "  Dear  Kath  ! — so  kind 
of  you  !  I  didn't  mean  to  disturb  Gracie !" 

"  Oh,  you  didn't  disturb  her.  She  can't  sleep 
with  pain,  poor  dear.  Now,  you  are  going  to  leave 
off  crying,  and  be  good.  It's  no  use  being  unhappy 
— is  it  ?  You'll  have  to  put  up  with  us  all  for  a 
little  while,  you  know ;  and  perhaps  you  won't  find 
us  so  very  disagreeable,  after  all,  when  you  are  used 
to  our  ways." 

This  was  a  new  view  of  the  matter.  Katie  checked 
her  tears,  and  said  energetically — 

"  Oh  no,  it  isn't  that." 

"  I  was  afraid  they  hadn't  properly  looked  after  you. 
Bessie  is  always  so  busy  with  her  own  concerns ;  and 


44  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

Winnie  has  to  prepare  for  classes  still.  Bessie's 
business  is  parish  business;  and  sometimes,  I  sup- 
pose, it  can't  be  well  put  aside.  And  poor  Gracie 
being  like  this  keeps  me  rather  busy,  because  I  am 
her  nurse.  She  and  I  always  paired  off  together, 
which  is  odd,  for  Bessie  comes  next  to  her  in 

age." 

"Has  Gracie  been  long  ill?"  asked  Katie.  "I 
don't  remember  hearing  about  it." 

"  Father  is  such  a  bad  correspondent.  Yes,  a  good 
while.  She  had  an  attack  on  the  lungs  a  year  ago, 
and  it  seemed  to  leave  her  so  delicate  all  last 
winter.  When  summer  came  on,  she  really  did 
get  better  for  a  time ;  but  she  caught  a  very 
bad  cold  before  the  end  of  August,  and  ever 

since "  Kath  paused,  sighing.  "  I  hope  her 

cough  will  not  disturb  you,  Katie.  It  is  often  bad 
at  night." 

"  But  doesn't  it  disturb  you, — sleeping  in  the 
same  room  ? " 

"  Oh,  that  is  nothing.  I  am  Grade's  nurse. 
It  is  my  business  to  be  disturbed.  She  has  been 
particularly  poorly  the  last  week  or  two.  Some- 
times she  is  not  nearly  so  bad,  but  the  weather  is 
chilly  now." 

"  Wouldn't  going  to  a  warm  place  be  good  for  her 
— like  father  ? "  asked  Katie. 


SOMETHING  TO  DO.  45 

"  No.  They  did  talk  of  such  a  thing  last  year, 
for  this  winter ;  but  not  now.  They  say  it  would 
be  of  no  use ;  and  she  isn't  fit  for  travelling. 
She  must  just  stay  indoors  at  home,  and  be  taken 
care  of." 

Kath  spoke  quietly,  but  Katie  could  see  tears 
shining  on  her  eyelashes. 

"  You  must  be  anxious  about  her." 

"  Yes,"  Kath  answered  briefly.  "  One  must,  of 
course.  But  don't  say  a  word  of  that  to  Gracie, 
please.  We  have  to  keep  her  spirits  up.  Now, 
don't  you  think  it  is  time  for  you  to  go  to  bed  ? 
And  you  must  not  be  miserable  any  more :  for  we 
really  want  to  make  you  happy,  Katie." 

':  I  ought  not  to  be  unhappy,"  Katie  said  in  a  low 
tone.  "  I  have — the  best  comfort  of  all." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  '  ought.'  It  is  quite 
natural.  But  you'll  try  and  be  brave." 

Katie  was  too  shy  to  explain  her  thought  in 
words.  Her  hand  stole  involuntarily  to  the  little 
Bible,  still  lying  open  on  the  table,  and  her  eyes 
met  Kath's. 

"Ah!  did  you  mean  that?"  Kath  asked,  half- 
lightly,  yet  with  kindness.  "Well,  dear,  we  all 
have  our  Bibles,  of  course.  And  I  suppose  they 
ought  to  be  a  comfort,  if  one  is  in  trouble.  It  is 
right  that  they  should.  Only  don't  stay  up  late 


46  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

to-night,  reading,  because  really  bed  is  the  best 
place  for  you.  Good-night,  Katie.  "  Mind  you  sleep 
well,  and  don't  cry  any  more." 

Kath  went  off,  after  a  parting  kiss,  and  Katie 
sat  thinking,  much  cheered,  yet  a  little  troubled. 
Was  that  "best  comfort"  unknown  to  the  lovable 
Kath  ?  Sad  if  it  were  so  !  Yet  Kath  had  comforted 
Katie :  had  helped  her  up  to  a  cheerier,  braver  level. 
Katie  no  longer  felt  utterly  cast  down.  She  was 
able  now  to  kneel  quietly  in  prayer,  and  to  read  a 
few  verses  with  thoughtful  attention. 

Grace's  cough  could  not  induce  wakefulness  that 
night.  Katie's  head  scarcely  reached  the  pillow 
before  she  fell  into  dreamless  sleep,  which  lasted 
until  after  morning  dawn. 


CHAPTER   V. 

BESSIE'S  ACCOUNTS. 

)INE  o'clock  having  been  the  hour  named 
for  breakfast,  Katie  was  punctually  down- 
stairs at  the  sounding  of  the  bell.  No- 
body else  had  yet  appeared. 

It  was  a  fine  cool  autumn  morning,  and  the 
window  at  one  end  of  the  dining-room  stood  open. 
Kate  leant  out,  trying  not  to  hear  a  little  voice  of 
longing  for  the  pure  ocean  breezes,  to  which  she 
had  been  all  her  life  accustomed.  Penshurst  air 
was  counted  remarkably  fine — by  Londoners;  but 
it  could  not  bear  comparison  with  Norfolk  air. 

Houses  lay  below  on  the  hill-side,  and  houses 
all  down  the  length  of  the  valley,  each  standing  in 
its  own  neat  garden.  Houses  clustered  more  thickly 
at  the  lower  end,  near  the  station,  where  the  Pens- 
hurst  Valley  ran  at  right  angles  into  the  longer  Hurst 
Valley.  Beyond  the  station,  and  on  the  other 
side  of  the  said  Hurst  Valley  rose  steep  downs, 

47  -n 


48  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

dotted  with  low  bushes,  forming  a  lengthy  hill, 
some  two  hundred  feet  in  height  above  the  station 
level.  The  hills  bounding  the  Penshurst  Valley 
rose  also  to  much  the  same  height.  Katie's  eyes, 
used  to  the  flat  lands  of  Norfolk,  found  the  effect 
to  be  almost  mountainous.  The  view  from  this 
dining-room  window  really  was  very  pretty,  though 
a  little  spoilt  by  much  recent  building. 

Ten  minutes  passed,  and  Katie  was  still  alone. 
Ten  minutes  more,  and  she  began  to  feel  very 
hungry.  A  step  at  length  sounded,  and  Mr.  Thorn- 
ton Balfour  came  in. 

"  Katie !  what  has  become  of  Kath  ?  Are  you  the 
first  down  ?  Good-morning,  my  dear.  Slept  well  ?  " 

He  did  not  wait  for  an  answer. 

"Trained  in  punctual  habits,  I  see.  The  ladies  of 
my  household  are  uncommonly  lazy.  Not  Bessie,  I 
believe,  but  she  is  probably  out  on  some  wildgoose 
chase,  or  muddling  her  head  with  Parish  accounts. 
Kath  generally  is  in  good  time.  Do  you  prefer 
coffee  or  tea  ?  I'll  ring  for  it  at  once.  We  don't 
have  prayers  till  after  breakfast.  Sit  down,  and 
make  yourself  at  home.  The  time  those  servants 
are  answering  a  bell! — one  would  think  they  had 
to  walk  a  mile !  Coffee  at  once,  Ann,  and  ham  and 
eggs,  or  whatever  is  cooking." 


BESSIE'S  ACCOUNTS  49 

Mr.  Balfour  betook  himself  to  arm-chair  and  news- 
paper, almost  vanishing  behind  the  latter.  Katie  obe- 
diently seated  herself,  and  waited  in  hungry  patience. 
Breakfast  at  home  had  been  a  full  hour  earlier. 

Presently  there  was  a  crunching  of  gravel  out- 
side, as  by  a  man's  boots.  Somebody  threw  wide  the 
partly-opened  window. 

"  Uncle ! " 

"  Hey !  what  ?  Harold !  "  Mr.  Balfour  dropped 
his  newspaper,  and  went  quickly  towards  a  face 
which  was  inserting  itself  between  two  plants.  The 
lower  sill  of  this  -window  stood  nearly  five  feet  above 
the  gravel  path,  and  was  well-lined  outside  with 
flowers  in  pots.  The  face  was  a  pleasant  one,  not 
unlike  Kath's  in  outline,  spare  and  healthily-pale, 
with  laughing  eyes,  and  a  soft  clerical  wide-awake 
shading  the  brow. 

"  Good-morning,  Uncle.     How  is  Gracie  ? " 

"I  have  not  heard  yet.  Good-morning.  Can't 
you  come  in?  Your  cousin,  Katherine  Balfour, 
from  Norfolk." 

Katie  drew  near,  in  obedience  to  his  glance,  and 
Harold  lifted  the  wide-awake. 

"  No,  not  your  cousin,  by-the-bye — no  relation 
really.  I  forgot." 

"Next  door  to  cousin,"  said  Harold.     "How  do 


5o  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

you  do,  Miss  Balfour?  Rested  after  your  jour- 
ney?" 

"  Yes,  thank  you,"  said  Katie. 

"  Come  in,"  urged  his  uncle. 

"  Thanks,  no ;  I  can't  spare  the  time.  I'm  merely 
come  to  bring  a  message  from  my  mother.  She  is 
anxious  to  make  Miss  Balfour's  acquaintance,  and 
would  be  very  pleased  to  see  Miss  Balfour  to  after- 
noon tea  at  half-past  four.  She  would  pay  the  duo 
preliminary  call,  but  for  a  cold." 

"Mrs.  Carrington,  my  wife's  sister,"  explained 
Mr.  Balfour.  "Your  father  knew  her  well  long 
ago." 

"  I  should  like  it  very  much,"  said  Katie. 

"  Where  are  you  off  to,  Harold  ? "  asked  Mr. 
Balfour. 

"Back  to  London,  by-and-by.  I  ran  down  last 
night ;  and  we  fancied  I  should  catch  some  of  you 
before  breakfast  was — quite  ended ! "  with  a  glance 
at  the  table. 

"It  is  not  quite  ended  yet,"  Katie  found  herself 
saying. 

"Have  a  cup  of  coffee  ? "  asked  Mr.  Balfour. 

"No,  thanks.  We  breakfasted  an  hour  and  a  half 
ago.  Good-bye." 

"  That    sounds    like    Aunt    Chattie,"    Kath    re- 


BESSIE'S  ACCOUNTS.  51 

marked,  appearing  in  time  for  a  glimpse  of  Harold's 
retreating  back.  "  Good-morning,  Katie.  Are  you 
rested  this  morning  ?  Did  you  sleep  well,  dear  ? " 

Kath  looked  sleepy  herself,  and  not  so  bright  as 
the  evening  before.  She  heard  Katie's  answers  with 
a  kind  but  absent  smile,  and  sat  down  sighing. 

"  Is  that  Mrs.  Carrington's  son  ? "  asked  Katie. 

"That  is  Harold."  And  Kath  stifled  a  yawn. 
"  He  has  a  curacy  in  rather  a  poor  part  of  London, 
and  works  very  hard  there;  but  it  doesn't  seem 
to  hurt  him  at  present.  He  comes  down  once  a 
week  to  see  his  mother.  I  am  sorry  we  should 
all  be  so  late  to-day.  Gracie  has  had  such  a  bad 
night." 

Mr.  Balfour  looked  at  her.     "  Cough  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Cough,  and  pain,  and  breathlessness.  I  almost 
had  to  call  some  one  up." 

"  I  have  a  great  mind  to  get  in  further  advice. 
Your  mother  thinks  Gracie  stronger." 

"  She  is  not  stronger,"  said  Kath. 

Katie  was  almost  ashamed  of  her  own  hearty 
appetite,  Kath  took  so  little.  Breakfast  was  rather 
a  broken  meal,  one  member  of  the  family  after 
another  dropping  in  at  intervals.  Mr.  Balfour  read 
his  newspaper  diligently,  and  Mrs.  Balfour  appeared 
last.  Prayers  did  not  take  place  till  half-past  ten, 


LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 


and  nobody  seemed  to  suppose  that  Katie  might 
care  to  be  released  sooner.  Mr.  Balfour  hurried 
off  to  catch  the  11.10  train  to  London,  and  Mrs. 
Balfour  went  slowly  to  her  housekeeping.  Eliza- 
beth took  out  Parish  accounts  once  more,  Kath 
returned  to  Grace,  and  Winnie  ran  off  to  a  drawing- 
class. 

Katie  alone  had  nothing  to  do.  Nobody  seemed 
to  want  her.  The  lack  of  occupation  was  a  new 
experience  in  her  life.  At  home,  each  day,  though 
not  crowded,  had  always  been  full. 

But  here  Katie  found  herself  at  a  loss.  She  went 
up  to  her  room,  and  came  upon  servants  there,  so 
she  carried  a  little  writing-case  into  the  drawing- 
room,  and  began  a  letter  to  her  father.  That  would 
not  do,  however.  Tears  threatened  soon  to  become 
too  much  for  her.  Katie  shut  the  writing-case,  took 
up  a  book,  and  tried  to  read,  but  with  poor  success. 

Bessie,  busied  at  her  favourite  writing-table,  with 
bent  brows  and  rounded  shoulders,  seemed  uncon- 
scious of  Katie's  presence.  Katie  sat  watching  her 
for  a  while,  and  after  a  while,  nobody  else  being 
present,  she  said  softly, — 

"  I  suppose  I  couldn't  help  ? " 

Bessie  turned  and  looked  at  her. 

"  Do  you  care  for  this  sort  of  thing  ? "  she  asked. 


BESSIE'S  ACCOUNTS.  53 

"  Parish  work,  I  mean.  They  all  laugh  at  me  for 
taking  to  it." 

"  I  like  everything  of  the  kind." 

"  Not  accounts ! " 

"  I  kept  all  my  father's  accounts.  He  says  I  have 
a  good  head  for  figures." 

Bessie  seemed  dubious. 

"  If  you  really  mean  it "  she  said  at  last.  "  I 

hate  people  to  offer  to  help  out  of  mere  politeness ; 
but  if  you  mean  it " 

"I  do— really." 

"Well,  I  should  be  glad  if  you  could  just  look 
through  this.  I  am  stupid  about  figures,  and  I 
can't  get  my  Shoe  Club  accounts  to  square.  And 
Mr.  Hamilton  is  so  very  particular." 

"  Is  he  your  clergyman  ? " 

"  Yes.  He  likes  everything  so  very  exact, — and 
of  course  it  is  right.  But  this  will  not  come 
straight.  I  have  been  hours  over  it." 

"  One  gets  stupefied  at  last,"  said  Katie.  She 
brought  a  chair  to  Elizabeth's  side,  and  sat  down, 
bending  her  attention  at  once  to  the  somewhat 
untidy  rows  of  figures.  Two  or  three  slight  ques- 
tions were  asked;  and  then  she  went  through 
column  after  column,  in  the  rapid  and  assured 
manner  of  a  "ood  accountant. 


54  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  Yes,"  she  said  presently ;  "  there  are  two  mis- 
takes in  adding  up enough  to  make  everything 

go  wrong:  and  here  is  another.  I  think  you  have 
read  your  own  figures  wrongly." 

Bessie  looked  grateful.  She  did  not  speak,  and 
Katie  went  on  adding,  and  making  pencil  altera- 
tions, till  the  sum-total  was  reached. 

"  There  ! "  she  said,  smiling. 

"Why,  it  is  exactly  right!  Katie,  how  clever 
you  are ! " 

"  Oh,  just  a  matter  of  practice.  You  must  let  me 
help  you  sometimes.  I  like  being  useful." 

"  Should  you  not  mind  ?  And  you  don't  despise 
this  sort  of  thing  ?  But,  of  course  —  you  are  a 
clergyman's  daughter." 

"I  don't  see  why  that  should  make  any  differ- 
ence." 

Bessie  looked  round,  rose,  and  shut  the  door, 
then  came  back. 

"It  makes  all  the  difference,"  she  said.  "You 
have  been  brought  up  not  to  count  religion  a  mere 
secondary  thing,  just  to  be  pushed  into  the  back- 
ground. That  is  how  we  have  been  brought  up. 
You  will  soon  see !  It  is  only  the  last  two  years 
that  I  have  felt  differently,  and  they  all  laugh  at 
me.  You  will  soon  see  for  yourself." 


BESSIE'S  ACCOUNTS.  55 

"  A  little  laughing  doesn't  do  one  any  harm,"  said 
Katie,  not  pleased  with  Elizabeth's  tone. 

"  It  makes  one  angry  sometimes." 

Katie  thought  silently  of  the  "  love  "  that  "  is  not 
easily  provoked." 

"  Besides,  it  is  wrong.  Things  are  altogether 
wrong  in  this  house.  Nothing  but  pleasure,  and 
dress,  and  gaiety,  and  living  for  this  world.  Of 
course  I  know  that  many  people  have  more  gaieties 
than  we ;  but  that  isn't  from  want  of  will, — at  least 
so  far  as  mother  and  Kath  are  concerned.  I  don't 
join  in  things  myself  more  than  I  can  possibly  help, 
and  that  vexes  my  mother." 

"  It  must  be  difficult  to  know  what  to  do,  some- 
times." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  the  difficulty.  The  only 
thing  to  be  done  is  to  make  a  stand,  and  not  to  miud 
what  anybody  says.  I  have  a  great  deal  to  bear 
sometimes  from  them  all,  and  so  will  you  have,  if 
your  religion  is  worth  anything.  Kath  seems  very 
charming  to  strangers,  but  you  have  no  notion  what 
hard  things  she  can  say,  and  mother  expects  every 
one  to  do  exactly  what  she  wishes." 

"Kath  is  so  kind  to  me,"  said  Katie;  "and 
Grace " 

"Poor  Grace!    It  is  saddest  of  all  about  Grade. 


56  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

Yes,  she  is  very  pleasant,  naturally;  but  it  is  only 
natural  pleasantness — nothing  more.  And  to  see 
her  like  this,  going  down  and  down,  and  to  know 
that  there  is  no  hope  of  her  recovery,  and  not  to 
be  allowed  to  say  one  word " 

"  Is  she  so  very  ill  ?  "  asked  Katie,  with  a  grieved 
look. 

"  Oh  yes ;  there  is  no  hope  at  all.  She  may  live 
for  some  months,  or  even  perhaps  for  a  year  or  two, 
but  she  will  never  be  well  again.  The  doctors  say 
so  plainly.  Father  and  mother  and  Kath  all  know 
it,  though  mother  pretends  to  think  it  is  a  mistake. 
But  Gracie  doesn't  know.  She  always  thinks  she 
is  getting  better,  and  nobody  may  contradict  her, 
or  say  a  word  to  make  her  think  the  contrary.  It 
is  dreadful  to  feel  that  she  is  to  be  left  to  go  down 
into  the  grave  unprepared  to  the  last." 

"  Oh  no,  surely,"  protested  Katie ;  "  surely,  by-and- 
by,  if  she  gets  worse r-" 

"  But  it  may  not  be  only  a  gradual  getting  worse. 
She  might  at  any  time  be  taken  very  ill,  and  be 
gone  suddenly.  She  broke  a  blood-vessel  once — 
and  if  that  came  again — but  she  doesn't  seem  to 
have  the  very  least  notion  of  danger  herself.  She 
is  always  talking  of  getting  well,  and  of  things  she 
means  to  do  by-and-by ;  and  Kath  encourages  her 


BESSIE'S  ACCOUNTS.  57 

'in  it.  It  is  dreadful,  Katie.  Oiily  you  mustn't  re- 
peat a  word  of  all  this.  I  ain  the  oiily  one  who 
feels  so.  Everybody  else  is  bent  on  keeping  up 
her  spirits,  and  deceiving  her  into  thinking  herself 
better." 


CHAPTER  VI. 
A  UNT    CHA  TTIE. 

SELCOME  to  my  nutshell,  Katie  Balfour!" 
It  certainly  was  an  old  little  house, 
one  -  storeyed  and  low  -  roofed,  standing 
near  the  lower  end  of  the  Penshurst  Valley. 
Creepers  grew  abundantly  over  the  little  porch 
and  up  the  side  gable ;  Virginian  red  showing  in 
conspicuous  style,  where,  somewhat  earlier,  white 
roses  had  vied  with  clematis  and  passion-flower. 
Not  that  these  three  had  quite  given  over  blooming 
yet.  A  little  garden  ran  round  the  small  dwelling, 
and  a  poplar  tree,  just  as  tall  as  the  roof,  guarded 
the  door ;  another  and  taller  one  rearing  its  head 
at  a  distance  of  three  or  four  yards. ' 

Mrs.  Carrington  stood  in  the  doorway,  a  slim 
and  upright  figure,  dressed  in  black,  with  a  semi- 
widow's  cap  on  her  smooth  hair.  She  was  un- 
usually tall;  not  exactly  handsome,  but  with  a 

58 


AUNT  CHATTIE.  59 

face  so  full  of  life  and  character,  that  it  could 
hardly  fail  to  win  attention. 

"  Welcome,  Katie,  my  dear.  Excuse  me,  but 
I  can't  call  Stephen  Balfour's  daughter  by  any- 
thing but  her  Christian  name,  so  I  hope  you  will 
not  be  offended." 

"  No,  indeed,"  Katie  said,  as  Mrs.  Carrington  led 
her  indoors. 

"  And  you  have  found  my  little  shell  without 
difficulty.  Not  too  spacious,  is  it  ?  But  I  have 
room  enough  to  eat,  sleep,  and  turn  round  in. 
More  than  Diogenes  had  in  his  tub — or  so  one 
would  imagine." 

Mrs.  Carrington  seated  herself  in  an  easy-chair, 
and  examined  Katie  all  over,  with  penetrating  yet 
kind  eyes.  Katie  blushed  a  little  under  the 
scrutiny,  yet  could  not  feel  uncomfortable.  She 
had  already  a  sense  of  being  with  a  friend. 

"  I  don't  know  exactly  who  you  are  like,  child. 
There's  a  touch  of  your  father,  and  a  touch  of  your 
mother,  and  there  are  a  good  many  touches  of  no- 
body in  particular ;  yourself  individually,  I  suppose. 
Good  thing  to  have  individuality  in  look  as  well  as 
in  character.  I  never  can  see  why  human  beings 
are  to  be  transformed  into  a  row  of  pegs,  all  alike  in 
shape  and  pattern.  And  you  are  not  yet  a  fashion- 
able young  woman  of  the  day.  That's  easily  seen ! " 


60  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  I  hope  not,"  said  Katie,  smiling. 

"No, — that's  easily  seen,"  repeated  Mrs.  Car- 
rington,  folding  her  hands,  and  continuing  her 
survey.  "  Take  off  your  bonnet,  Katie.  It's  a  nice 
little  bonnet.  Your  father  always  had  a  neat  taste, 
and  I  suppose  he  has  trained  you.  Yes ;  I  see  a 
likeness  now.  Well,  how  did  you  leave  your  father, 
my  dear  ? " 

Katie  tried  to  answer,  and  faltered. 

"  It's  not  easy  saying  good-bye  for  the  first  time, 
is  it  ?  And  at  your  age,  six  months  seem  an  age. 
But  don't  be  afraid;  the  time  will  soon  go.  It  is 
anxious  work  for  you,  of  course,  having  him  so  far 
away.  And  we  are  apt  to  think  nobody  can  take 
care  of  our  dear  ones,  as  we  could  do  ourselves. 
As  if  the  Everlasting  Arms  were  not  powerful 
enough ;  and  as  if  HE  couldn't  provide  human 
friends  and  caretakers !  But  you  are  like  the  rest 
of  us,  child,  I  don't  doubt — always  fearing  where 
there  is  no  cause  for  fear.  How  did  you  manage 
to  find  your  way  here  this  afternoon  ?  Anybody 
come  with  you  ? " 

"No,"  said  Katie,  helped  to  composure  by  Mrs. 
Carrington's  words  and  manner.  "  Winnie  showed 
me  the  house  yesterday,  and  the  way  is  very 
simple.  Kath  meant  to  walk  with  me,  but  she  did 
not  like  to  leave  Grace." 


AUNT  CHATTIE.  61 

"  Poor  Grace  !  " 

Katie  looked  gravely  up,  and  said,  "  Mrs.  Car- 
rington,  do  you  think " 

"Why  not  call  me  'Aunt  Chattie,'  child?  I 
have  always  counted  myself  your  father's  sister." 

"  May  I  ?     Yes,  I  should  like  that." 

"  Well,  you  were  going  to  ask " 

"  Is  Gracie  ill  at  all  like  my  father  ? " 

"  Like,  and  not  like  !  Lungs  in  both  cases.  But 
your  father's  seems  to  be  a  case  rather  of  delicacy 
than  of  actual  disease.  He  will,  I  hope,  come  back 
well." 

"  And  Gracie  ? " 

Mrs.  Carrington  made  a  negative  gesture. 

"  Katie,"  she  said  slowly.  "  I  don't  know  much 
of  you  yet.  It  seems  to  me,  however,  at  least 
lilccly,  that  a  child  of  Stephen  Balfour's  will  have 
been  trained  to  serve  the  Master  whom  he  serves. 
Something  he  said,  too — and  something  in  your 
own  look " 

"  I  do  try,"  was  the  simple  answer. 

"  That  might  mean  much  or  little.  From  you  I 
think  it  means  much.  Well,  we  have  not  to 
judge  other  people.  Many  a  one  may  be  at  heart 
a  truer  servant  to  God  than  appears  on  the  surface. 
But  my  heart  is  sore  often  for  that  poor  fading 
flower, — dying  day  by  day,  and  taught  to  think 


62  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

herself  getting  daily  better.  I  don't  know  how 
things  may  be  between  you  and  her;  but  if  ever 
you  have  an  opening,  remember  her  need.  Some- 
times a  comparative  stranger  may  say  words 
which  the  home-folks  cannot,  or  will  not  venture 
to  say.  Kath — dear  little  Kath !  nobody  can  help 
loving  her! — guards  Gracie  like  a  very  ogre  from 
aught  that  might  open  her  eyes.  It's  cruel,  cruel 
kindness, — so  lovingly  meant  too  !  You  must  wait 
and  watch.  Agitation  is  forbidden,  and  might  do 
harm.  There  is  the  real  difficulty.  I  am  treating 
you  with  confidence,  my  dear,  for  your  face  tells 
me  that  I  may." 

Katie  raised  her  eyes  to  Mrs.  Carrington's,  as 
she  said  only, — "  Yes  ! " 

Mrs.  Carrington  smiled.  "I  would  rather  have 
your  quiet '  Yes,'  than  a  great  amount  of  vehement 
protestation.  You  must,  as  I  say,  wait  and  watch. 
Any  word  which  might  seem  to  hint  at  danger  or 
death  is  strictly  forbidden  by  Grace's  parents.  Yet 
an  opening  may  come,  if  we  ask  it  in  prayer.  Poor 
Gracie  !  She  was  the  flower  of  the  family  before 
this  came  on, — so  bonny  and  true-hearted.  Even 
Kath  doesn't  equal  what  Gracie  was.  But  she  is 
sadly  changed.  Here  comes  tea,  and  here  is  Harold. 
You  have  met  already." 

"Through    a    window,"    Harold    said    brightly 


AUNT  CHATTIE.  63 

"Mother  miue,  I  found  I  should  just  have  time 
for  a  cup  of  tea  and  good-bye  before  catching  my 
train — more  than  I  expected.  What  a  lovely  day  it 
is !  Fresh,  after  London.  Miss  Balfour,  I  am  seri- 
ously thinking  of  bringing  all  my  Parish  accounts  to 
you.  Some  one  tells  me  you  are  magnificently  gifted 
in  that  line." 

Katie  did  not  blush  or  look  embarrassed,  as  he 
half  expected.  She  only  smiled  and  said,  "  I  sup- 
pose you  have  seen  Bessie." 

"What  is  that?"  asked  Mrs.  Carrington. 

"  Only  poor  puzzle-headed  Bessie,  floundering  as 
usual  in  a  hopeless  quagmire  of  figures.  Miss  Bal- 
four has  kindly  pulled  her  out,  and  set  her  on  firm 
ground." 

"  Mr.  Hamilton  might  find  work  for  which  Bessie 
is  better  fitted." 

"  But  Uncle  Thornton  objects  to  a  district,  for  fear 
of  possible  infection."  A  slight  sound  made  him  turn 
towards  Katie.  "  I  suppose  you  have  been  used  to 
visiting  among  the  poor." 

"  Yes ;  I  meant  to  ask  for  a  district  here." 

Harold  looked  at  his  mother,  and  Mrs.  Carrington 
shook  her  head.  "  You  will  have  to  wait  for  a  while. 
By-and-by,  perhaps " 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  do,"  said  Katie,  rather  dis- 
tressfully. "  I  can't  be  idle  for  six  months." 


64  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  Work  will  be  given  you,  if  you  really  want  work. 
My  dear,  don't  be  afraid.  A  little  waiting  does  no- 
body harm." 

"  If  you  can  help  Bessie  out  of  a  few  of  her  quag- 
mires, that  will  be  a  real  charity,"  said  Harold. 

"Other  quagmires  besides  figures,"  murmured 
Mrs.  Carrington. 

Harold  looked  mischievous,  as  he  added, — "  And 
if  you  want  to  win  Kath's  heart,  you  only  have  to 
show  yourself  as  much  an  adept  at  hat-trimming  as 
at  figures." 

"  For  the  poor  ? "  asked  Katie  innocently. 

"  I  believe  Uncle  Thornton  does  count  himself  a 
necessitous  individual;  otherwise  one  wouldn't  ex- 
actly describe  his  daughters  as  '  the  poor ! ' "  laughed 
Harold. 

Katie  did  not  know  what  to  make  of  Harold's 
jesting  manner,  seeing  which  he  became  graver  and 
talked  pleasantly  on  other  matters  for  ten  minutes 
or  so.  Then  he  said  good-bye,  and  went  off  at  a 
quick  pace  to  catch  his  train,  Mrs.  Carrington  ob- 
serving,— 

"My  dear,  you  must  not  misunderstand  Harold. 
His  high  spirits  are  not  flippancy.  His  is  a  life  of 
hard  work  and  self-denial;  and  I  like  to  see  my 
boy  able  to  laugh  merrily." 

"  My  father  never  jokes," 


AUNT  CHATTY.  65 


"No;  Stephen  was  always  of  a  serious  nature. 
But  don't  let  yourself  think  that  fun  is  wrong, 
because  your  father  is  not  given  to  it.  'A  merry 
heart  is  a  continual  feast,'  you  know;  or  if  you 
don't  know,  I  should  like  you  to  learn  the  fact. 
You  will  find  certain  difficulties  in  your  new  home, 
Katie.  I  know  my  sister  too  well  not  to  be  assured 
of  this  beforehand.  Some  such  difficulties  it  will 
be  best  to  meet,  if  possible,  lightly  and  cheerily, 
not  in  too  desperately  serious  a  manner." 

"  Only — if  they  should  want — if  I  should  be  told 
to  do  anything  wrong " 

"  Then,  my  dear,  don't  do  it." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A  COMING  BIRTHDAY. 

JELL,  Katie,  what  do   you   think  of  Auiit 
Chattie's  Nutshell  ? "  asked  Winnie. 

Twenty-four  hours  had  passed  since 
Katie's  visit  to  Mrs.  Carrington,  and  nobody  had  yet 
taken  the  trouble  to  make  any  inquiry  on  the  subject. 
Katie  felt  the  omission,  accustomed  as  she  was  to 
a  close  exchange  of  thought  with  her  father  on  any 
and  every  matter  which  interested  either. 

It  was  a  very  wet  afternoon,  and  Katie  had  been 
spending  an  hour  in  her  bedroom,  writing  a  long  letter 
to  Mr.Bulfour,and  indulging  in  some  saddened  dreams 
of  past  days — "  old  times,"  she  called  them  already 
to  herself,  though  so  recent.  Coming  downstairs  at 
about  four  o'clock,  she  found  her  aunt  and  three 
cousins  in  the  drawing-room,  Elizabeth  alone  being 
absent.  Gracie's  sofa  had  been  drawn  near  the  fire, 
for  it  was  a  chilly  day.  Kath  sat  beside  her,  wearing 

66 


A   COMING  BIRTHDAY.  67 

a  sunny  face,  and  busily  engaged  with  a  heap  of  white 
India  muslin.  Winnie,  on  a  low  chair  near,  with 
elbows  on  knees  and  chin  on  hands,  seemed  to  be 
giving  alternate  attention  to  a  story-book,  and  to  the 
movements  of  Kath's  fingers. 

"  Come  near  the  fire,  Katie, — you  look  quite  blue," 
Grace  said  kindly ;  and  almost  immediately  Winnie 
uttered  the  above  question. 

"  I  think  it  is  a  dear  little  place,"  Katie  answered 
warmly. 

"  Tastes  differ,"  pronounced  Winnie.  "  /  like  a 
house,  not  a  cottage.  It's  all  spiders  and  crawly 
creatures,  and  the  ceilings  are  horribly  low.  What 
do  you  think  of  Aunt  Chattie  herself.  Queer!  isn't 
she?" 

Katie  was  conscious  of  inspection  from  Mrs 
Balfour's  black  eyes,  and  she  had  difficulty  in  con- 
trolling a  sense  of  shyness.  "  Mrs.  Carrington  was 
so  very  kind,"  she  said,  "  one  could  not  help  liking 
— loving — her.  She  told  me  I  might  go  in  as  often 
as  I  could." 

"  Oh,  then,  Aunt  Chattie  has  taken  one  of  her 
fancies.  Mother,  Aunt  Chattie  has  fallen  in  love 
with  Katie  ! " 

"  Nonsense,"  was  the  only  answer  vouchsafed  by 
Mrs.  Balfour. 

"  She  has.     You'll  see,  mother !     /  know." 


68  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"Nonsense,"  repeated  Mrs.  Balfour,  in  a  tone 
rather  disdainful  than  displeased. 

"  You'll  see,"  repeated  Winnie,  nodding  her  head. 

"I  don't  see  anything  so  very  surprising,  if  she 
has  taken  a  fancy  to  Katie,"  remarked  Kath  with 
quick  and  pleasant  tact,  seeing  her  cousin  look  un- 
comfortable. "  She  and  Katie's  father  were  always 
great  friends.  Katie,  there  are  lots  of  books  on 
that  side-table.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  choose  one 
to  read  ? " 

"Very  much,"  Katie  began;  and  then  she  hesi- 
tated. "  But  couldn't  I  help  you  in  your  work  ?" 

Kath  glanced  up,  with  the  sweetest  of  graceful 
smiles.  "  To  be  sure  you  could !  What  a  kind 
creature  you  must  be !  I  should  like  some  help 
immensely ;  but  Gracie  is  too  ill,  and  Bessie  is  too 
good,  and  Winnie  is  too  lazy." 

"  I  think  needlework  is  horrible ! "  declared 
Winnie. 

Katie  brought  her  workbasket  from  a  side-table, 
pondering  in  some  perplexity  over  the  expression, 
"  Bessie  is  too  good ; "  but  glad  to  find  once  more 
a  prospect  of  being  useful  to  somebody,  even  in  a 
small  degree.  She  was  speedily  supplied  with  a 
long  narrow  flounce  to  hem.  "  I'm  sorry  not  to 
give  you  something  more  interesting,"  Kath  said 
apologetically  ;  "  but  perhaps  you  won't  mind. 


A  COMING  BIRTHDAY.  69 

Something  is  wrong  with  our  sewing-machine,  or 
that  wouldn't  take  long.  I  don't  often  venture  to 
bring  out  this  sort  of  work  in  the  drawing-room  ; 
only  it  is  so  wet.  I  think  we  are  pretty  secure 
against  callers." 

"  Is  this  an  evening  dress  for  yourself  ? "  asked 
Katie. 

"  Yes, — for  the  29th.  Oh,  don't  you  know  ? 
It  is  Gracie's  birthday.  She  can't  get  out  and 
be  amused  this  winter,  poor  dear,  so  we  are 
going  to  have  a  big  party  of  friends.  I  want  to 
get  my  own  dress  done, — father  has  just  given  it 
to  me, — and  then  I  shall  have  plenty  of  time  for 
Gracie's.  Father  has  given  her  a  new  one,  too,  for 
the  occasion, — the  prettiest  pale  blue  silk,  and  she 
will  look  lovely  in  it.  She  must  be  well  that 
evening,  and  able  to  enjoy  herself.  I'm  going  to 
make  the  dress  myself,  for  nobody  fits  Gracie  as 
I  do.  I  don't  mean  to  let  her  look  too  thin. 
Everybody  is  coming,  and  Gracie  is  to  be  our 
Queen, — are  you  not,  darling  ?  It  will  do  you  lots 
of  good." 

Kath  paused  in  her  work,  to  lean  over  the  couch 
for  a  kiss.  Gracie  brightened  up,  and  grew  flushed 
and  eager,  in  the  anticipation  of  her  birthday  party. 
Katie  thought  of  certain  words  spoken  by  Bessie 
and  Mrs.  Carrington,  and  wondered  silently.  The 


70  LIFE  IN  A   NUTSHELL. 

first  week  of  November  was  not  yet  over;  and 
how  could  any  one  tell  what  might  be  Grade's 
state  before  the  end  of  the  month  ?  This  question 
came  before  her,  as  she  noted  Grade's  frail  look  and 
transparent  hands. 

"  Katie,  you  look  as  solemn  as  a  judge,"  said  Kath 
quickly ;  and  Katie  met  a  peculiar  warning  glance, 
which  told  her  that  she  was  gazing  at  poor  Grade 
too  solicitously.  "  I'm  afraid  you  don't  like  such  a 
long  seam,"  continued  Kath. 

"  Oh  yes,  indeed ;  I  like  work  very  much,"  said 
Katie  hurriedly. 

"  What  shall  you  wear  on  the  29th,  Katie  ? " 
asked  her  youngest  cousin. 

"  My  evening  dress,  I  suppose.     I  only  have  one." 

"  What ! — that  old  thing  that  you  wore  yesterday 
evening ! " 

"  My  father  could  not  afford  to  buy  me  another," 
said  Katie  gently.  "  I  am  very  sorry ;  but  his  going 
abroad  costs  so  much.  If  that  dress  won't  do,  I  can 
easily  stay  up  in  my  room  for  one  evening."  Katie 
suddenly  found  her  eyes  full,  and  one  or  two  large 
drops  fell.  She  looked  up  at  Grace,  trying  to  smile. 
"  I  am  not  crying  about  a  dress  ;  please  don't  think 
so,"  she  faltered.  "  It  doesn't  matter  in  the  least ;  and 
nobody  would  miss  me.  I  shouldn't  mind ;  indeed  I 
shouldn't.  It's  only — only — about  my  father." 


A   COMING  BIRTH  DA  Y. 


"  Yes,  \ve  know,  dear,"  said  Grace,  in  a  soft  tone. 
"  Poor  girl !  It  won't  seem  so  hard  to  bear  in  a  few 
days.  But  you  mustn't  talk  of  staying  upstairs 
on  my  birthday  evening,  for  I  should  not  like  that 
at  all." 

"Don't  you  have  an  allowance?"  asked  Winnie 
bluntly. 

"  Father  said  he  would  send  me  something — 
five  pounds,  perhaps — by-and-by.  He  could  not  just 
now,"  Katie  said,  with  some  difficulty ;  <c  and  when  it 
comes  I  must  make  it  last  as  long  as  possible." 

"  Quite  right,  too,"  said  Kath,  with  a  reproving 
glance  at  Winnie.  "  But  we'll  think  what  to  do. 
There's  plenty  of  time." 

Tea  was  brought  in,  and  almost  at  the  same  moment 
a  cloaked  wet  figure  appeared.  "  Bessie,  you  are 
not  fit  to  be  seen  in  here  !  You  are  all  over  mud," 
Mrs.  Balfour  said,  in  a  vexed  tone.  And,  indeed, 
there  was  reason  for  the  exclamation.  A  draggled 
skirt-tail  dipped  below  the  half-soaked  ulster,  in 
unhappy  proximity  to  boots  which  had  buried  their 
native  black  under  a  dull  brown  coating;  and  a 
very  old  pair  of  kid  gloves  had  plainly  come  into 
contact  with  dripping  gate-handles ;  and  spatterings 
from  passing  vehicles  were  conspicuous  on  the  black 
straw  bonnet.  It  was  a  family  saying,  that  mud 
always  showed  a  peculiar  affection  for  Bessie. 


72  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  I  haven't  time  to  change  things,  mother;  I  must 
go  out  again  directly  I  have  had  a  cup  of  tea." 

"  I  would  have  foregone  the  cup  sooner  than 
have  made  my  appearance  in  such  guise,"  murmured 
Kath. 

"  I  couldn't.  I  am  tired,  and  I  wanted  it,"  said 
Elizabeth,  in  an  injured  tone.  She  really  did  look 
pale,  perhaps  from  her  struggle  with  the  gale. 

"  You  could  have  spared  time  to  leave  your  cloak 
in  the  passage,  I  should  think.  Look  at  the  marks 
your  boots  have  made !  Eeally !"  Mrs.  Balfour 
said. 

Elizabeth  stood  her  ground  doggedly,  waiting  in 
an  attitude  of  impatience,  while  Kath  handed  tea 
and  bread-and-butter  to  her  mother,  to  Katie,  and  to 
Grace.  Bessie  then  advanced  a  step,  and  a  small 
puddle  became  visible  where  she  had  stood. 

Mrs.  Balfour  pointed  to  it,  and  said,  "  Eeally  ! " 
again,  as  if  words  failed  her.  Elizabeth  knitted  her 
brows,  evidently  annoyed  to  be  censured. 

"  Where  are  you  going  now?"  asked  Winnie. 

"  Something  that  Mr.  Hamilton  wants  done." 

"What!  —  a  secret  mission?"  cried  Winnie. 
Elizabeth  was  silent. 

"  I  didn't  know  saints  went  in  for  beincj  muddv : 

V          ' 

but  I  suppose  they  are   quite  above  attention  to 
doormats." 


"  Bessie,  y< .u  ;ire  not  fit  to  be  seui  in  here  !"  5Irs.  Bnlfour  said.-  Page  71. 


A  COMING  BIRTHDAY.  75 

"  I  forgot  my  boots  were  so  damp,"  Bessie  said 
in  half-apology.  It  was  not  spoken  graciously. 

"  Damp ! "  repeated  Winnie,  several  notes  of  ad- 
miration in  her  voice. 

"  If  you  are  laid  up  with  rheumatic  fever,  don't 
ask  me  to  nurse  you,"  remarked  Kath,  in  a  tone 
of  light  superiority.  "  You  ought  to  change  every- 
thing before  going  out  again.  It  is  perfect  in- 
sanity." 

"  I  have  a  great  mind  to  forbid  you  to  go  at  all," 
said  Mrs.  Balfour.  "  What  does  Mr.  Hamilton  want 
done  ? " 

"Mrs.  Hamilton  has  a  cold,  and  can't  take  her 
Bible-class.  I  am  going  to  take  it  for  her." 

"Glad  I  don't  belong  to  the  class,"  muttered 
Winnie. 

"I  have  a  great  mind  to  forbid  your  going," 
repeated  Mrs.  Balfour. 

Elizabeth  drank  off  her  tea,  and  set  down  the 
cup  defiantly.  "Mother,  I  have  to  go.  I  have 
promised,  and  I  must.  Some  more  tea,  please, 
Kath." 

A  second  cup  was  disposed  of  rapidly,  Bessie 
glancing  once  and  again  at  Katie's  busy  fingers, 
as  if  in  wonderment.  Katie  could  not  understand 
her  look.  Mrs.  Balfour  seemed  to  acquiesce  in 
necessity  and  ceased  to  remonstrate.  Bessie  put 


76  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

down  her  cup  afresh,  gazed  hard  at  Katie  again, 
and  walked  out  of  the  room. 

"An  undesirable  fashion  of  leaving  one's  'foot- 
prints in  the  sands  of  time,' "  murmured  Kath, 
looking  at  the  carpet. 

"  It's  too  bad,"  said  Mrs.  Balfour. 

"Mother,  if  I  were  you,  I  would  not  allow  it," 
said  Kath.  "Bessie  will  be  ill  on  our  hands,  the 
next  thing.  She  is  doing  a  great  deal  more  than 
she  has  strength  for." 

"  And  you  have  trouble  enough  already,"  Grace 
said  sadly. 

Kath  turned  the  subject  at  once,  giving  all  her 
attention  to  bringing  back  Grace's  smile. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

LATE  TALKING. 

was  getting  ready  for  bed  that  night, 
when  a  tap  at  the  door  sounded.  She 
could  hardly  believe  it  was  only  her  third 
evening  at  "  The  Walnuts."  So  long  a  time  seemed 
already  to  have  elapsed  since  saying  good-bye  to 
her  dear  father;  so  wide  and  new  a  world  seemed 
already  to  have  opened  out  before  her  eyes.  Sad- 
ness came  over  her  keenly,  when  she  found  herself 
alone  ;  but  not  the  utter  loneliness  of  two  days 
earlier.  Loving  interest  towards  and  in  these  new 
cousins  was  springing  up  in  Katie's  warm  heart. 

The  tap  came  unexpectedly,  just  when  she  had 
sat  down  to  read  a  few  Bible  verses,  once  more 
in  her  white  dressing-gown.  Thoughts  of  the  past 
assailed  her  strongly,  with  a  threatening  of  tears 
again  ;  and  then  the  rap  sounded.  Katie  answered 
by  a  summons  to  enter. 

"  It's  only  me.     May  I  come  in  ? "  asked  Bessie. 

77 


?S  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  Oh  yes,"  Katie  replied,  not  without  a  touch 
of  disappointment,  for  she  had  hoped  it  might 
be  Kath.  "  Is  there  anything  you  want  me  to 
do?" 

Bessie  entered  and  shut  the  door,  making  no 
immediate  response.  She  found  her  way  to  a 
second  chair,  and  Katie  waited  for  the  first  remark, 
which  seemed  long  in  coming. 

"  I'm  interrupting  you,"  Bessie  said  at  length, 
with  a  gesture  towards  the  open  Bible. 

"  No ;  I  really  had  not  begun  to  read.  But  ought 
you  not  to  be  going  to  bed,  Bessie  ?  Aunt  said " 

"There  is  no  hurry.  I  want  to  speak  to  you 
about  something.  You  won't  be  offended,  I  hope. 
I  think  I  ought  to  speak." 

"  It  isn't  my  way  to  be  offended  very  easily," 
Katie  answered,  laughing.  "  Say  anything  you  like. 
You  know  I  have  to  learn  your  ways  ;  and  perhaps 
I  have  done  something  which  isn't  liked." 

"  Learning  our  ways  is  just  what  you  ought  not 
to  do,"  said  Bessie,  with  emphasis — "the  ways  of 
the  house,  I  mean." 

Kate  hesitated,  then  said,  "I  don't  see  that.  I 
want  to  please  you  all  as  much  as  possible." 

"  If  you  can  without  doing  what  is  wrong." 

"What  have  I  done  to-day  that  is  wrong?" 
Katie  went  straight  to  the  point. 


LATE  TALKING.  79 


Another  pause,  before  Bessie  asked,  "Does  your 
father  approve  of  worldly  gaieties  ? " 

Katie  smiled,  yet  sighed.  "  There  wasn't  much 
chance  of  gaieties  at  dear  old  Eckham,"  she  said. 
"  I  suppose  there  might  be  worldliness  without 
the  gaieties." 

Bessie  knitted  her  brows,  as  if  puzzled.  "  I 
don't  know  what  you  mean,"  she  said.  "It  is  a 
question  of  doing  what  the  world  does,  or  coming 
out  and  being  separate.  I  suppose  you  had  not 
much  opportunity  for  worldliness  there.  But  you 
will  have  to  choose  here.  Would  your  father  think 
such  things  right  ? " 

"  I  don't  know  yet  exactly  what  things  you 
mean.  My  father  would  not  like  me  to  be  worldly, 
of  course ;  and  I  should  not  like  it  myself.  But  of 
course  I  am  sometimes.  That  is  one  of  the  things 
one  has  to  fight  against." 

"  And  yet  you  could  sit  for  hours  helping  Kath 
to  make  that  dress  ! — and  you  could  let  them  think 
you  cared  about  having  a  new  dress  yourself,  to  go 
to  that  party  ! " 

Katie  looked  perplexed  in  her  turn.  "I  should 
be  very  glad  to  have  a  new  dress,  if  I  could  afford 
it,"  she  said  ;  "  but  I  can't.  It  is  a  pity,  because 
my  old  one  is  really  shabby  ;  and  I  would  rather  not 
look  shabby  on  Grade's  birthday.  Is  that  wrong  ? " 


8o  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL 

"  Her  last  birthday,  most  likely  !  And  to  spend 
it  in  such  a  way  ! " 

"  Can  one  be  so  sure  ? "  asked  Katie,  with  much 
feeling.  "But,  Bessie,  even  so,  I  don't  quite  see, 
— of  course  it  does  seem  to  me  very  sad, — it  seems 
as  if  she  ought  to  be  told, — ought  to  look  forward, 
and  know  what  is  coming.  But  I  don't  see  that 
there  is  anything  wrong  in  having  friends  to  spend 
her  birthday  evening  with  her." 

"  Everything  is  wrong  for  Gracie  which  helps  to 
blind  her  eyes.  But  I  was  talking  about  yourself, 
and  about  your  going  in  for  worldly  gaieties." 

"  Yes,"  Katie  answered. 

"Don't  you  understand  what  I  mean?  About 
that  evening.  I  don't  suppose  there  will  be  danc- 
ing, because  Gracie  is  not  well  enough  to  dance, 
and  everything  is  to  be  for  her  amusement.  But 
there  will  be  a  charade,  and  music ;  and  any  amount 
of  dress  and  flirtation,  and  gossip  and  nonsense. 
Kath  wants  father  to  give  you  a  new  dress,  and  he 
will,  for  he  always  does  what  Kath  wishes." 

"  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  have  told  me  that," 
said  Katie.  "  Am  I  meant  to  know  it  ? " 

"  No,  not  yet,  of  course ;  but  I  thought 

"  I  wish  you  had  not  told  me." 

"  It  doesn't  matter.  That  is  of  no  consequence. 
And  you  mean  to  go  to  the  party  ?  " 


LATE  TALKING.  Si 


"  It  is  not  going  to  it,"  Katie  answered.  "  I  do 
not  see  that  I  could  help  being  present,  when  it  is 
here,  in  the  house, — unless  I  had  no  dress  to  wear. 
I  should  be  rude  if  I  stayed  away.  Why,  Bessie, 
you  will  be  there  ! " 

"  No ;  I  shall  make  an  engagement  somewhere 
for  the  evening." 

"  But  will  Uncle  and  Aunt  like  that  ? " 

"I  can't  help  it  if  they  don't.  I  must  act  with 
decision.  And  of  course  one  must  expect  some- 
thing of  persecution." 

Katie  could  hardly  resist  a  smile,  and  Bessie 
flushed  up.  "  You  may  laugh,  but  it's  true.  Didn't 
you  hear  how  they  went  on  at  me  this  after- 
noon ? " 

"But  I  shouldn't  call  that  exactly  persecution, 
— would  you  ?  Anybody  might  dislike  muddy 
boots  in  a  drawing-room." 

Katie's  common  sense  was  too  severe  for  Bessie's 
acceptance.  "  You  don't  know  anything  about  it," 
she  said,  with  some  annoyance.  "  Kath  or  Winnie 
might  be  muddy  to  any  extent,  and  nobody  would 
say  a  word.  It  is  only  I ! — only  because  they 
knew  I  was  out  visiting  the  poor,  and  taking  a 
Bible-class." 

Katie  was  silent.  She  hardly  liked  to  say  how 
much  she  had  thought  her  cousin  in  the  wrong ; 


82  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

how  great  a  pity  it  had  seemed  to  her  that  annoy - 
ance  should  have  been  so  needlessly  given. 

Bessie  suddenly  exclaimed,  "  I  thought  you  were 
a  Christian,  Katie ! " 

It  was  Katie's  turn  to  flush,  though  she  only 
said,  •"  You  don't  mean  in  the  sense  of  all  baptized 
persons  being  Christians." 

"  No,  of  course  not.  Of  course,  all  in  the  house 
are  Christians  in  that  sense.  But  I  thought  it  was 
a  real  thing  with  you, — a  real  living  for  Christ.  I 
thought  you  and  I  would  feel  together,  and  work 
together,  and  be  apart  from  all  the  rest.  And  now 
you  seem  to  be  just  putting  yourself  on  the  side  of 
evil." 

Was  the  accusation  just  ?  A  lump  rose  in  Katie's 
throat,  as  she  said,  "  I  don't  know  what  you  mean." 

"  Why,  Katie,  you  must  know !  They  don't  love 
Him,  or  care  to  follow!"  said  Bessie.  "Mother 
and  the  girls,  I  mean.  Can't  you  see  for  yourself  ? 
I  should  have  thought  it  plain  enough.  They  just 
live  for  this  world,  and  nothing  more.  And  you 
know  that  whoever  is  not '  with '  Christ  is  '  against ' 
Him.  And  you  know  that  we  have  to  come  out 
from  the  world,  and  to  be  '  separate.'  " 

"  I  thought  we  had  to  be  '  in  the  world,'  only  not 
'of'it." 

"  Well,  that  means  being  separate,  keeping  apart. 


LATE  TALKING.  83 

I  don't  see  liow  you  can  mix  up  with  all  the  people 
who  will  be  at  Grace's  party,  and  dress  like  them, 
and  talk  as  they  do,  and  }ret  not  be  '  of  the  world.' 
It  isn't  possible.  You  have  to  take  your  choice 
now,  and  so  much  depends  on  a  first  step.  That 
was  why  I  thought  I  ought  to  speak.  I  am  afraid 
I  have  vexed  you,  but  it  seemed  right  to  speak 
frankly." 

"  I  am  not  the  very  least  vexed,"  Katie  assured 
her.  "  Only  one  can't  always  agree  directly  with 
other  people.  My  father  has  so  often  told  me  to 
think  difficulties  out  for  myself,  and  not  merely 
to  take  what  he  said,  just  because  he  said  it." 

"  I  don't  see  what  there  is  to  think  out.  One  has 
to  act." 

"  Yes, — but — it  isn't  a  matter  so  easily  settled," 
said  Katie,  with  a  look  of  some  distress.  "  People 
see  things  so  differently ;  and  one  can't  always  be 
sure  that  one's  own  way  of  seeing  must  be  best; 
and  there  is  the  question,  what  is  exactly  meant 
by  worldliness.  I  have  had  so  little  to  do  with 
difficulties  of  that  sort  in  Eckham.  But  my  father 
has  often  said  how  careful  we  ought  to  be  not  to 
judge  others  in  doubtful  matters.  To  make  up  our 
own  minds  of  course,  what  is  right  for  our  own 
selves,  but  not  to  judije" 

"  I  should  not  call  worldliness  a  doubtful  matter," 


84  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

said  Bessie.  And  again  she  observed,  "I  thought 
you  were  a  real  Christian,  Katie.  I  am  so  dis- 
appointed." 

Katie  did  not  feel  as  if  she  could  stand  much 
more.  A  vision  of  her  father's  face  came  before 
her;  and  of  the  tender  voice  in  which  he  had  said 
at  parting,  "My  Katie  will  be  lonely  sometimes, 
but  she  will  always  have  her  dear  Lord  and  Master 
to  uphold  her.  Look  to  Him  for  guidance,  my 
darling,  and  don't  let  any  shadows  hide  His  face 
from  your  heart." 

"It  is  getting  late,  Bessie,"  she  faltered.  "I 
think  you  and  I  ought  to  go  to  bed.  I  will  not 
forget  all  you  have  said,  only  I  am  sure  we  can't 
settle  for  one  another  about  such  things,  and  Judging 
must  be  wrong.  I  am  afraid  I  judged  you  hardly 
this  afternoon,  and  now  you  are  judging  me.  I 
think  I  would  rather  die  than  go  on  wilfully  doing 
anything  that  I  know  would  grieve  the  Lord  Jesus. 
But  we  can't  always  know  His  will  perfectly,  with- 
out waiting  to  be  shown.  I  know  He  knows  that 
T  want  to  obey  Him.  But  of  course  there  are  things 
where  we  are  not  told  exactly  in  plain  words  how 
much  is  right  or  wrong,  only  we  are  told  to  be  kind 
and  gentle,  and  not  to  judge  others.  I  suppose  each 
of  us  must  decide  for  herself." 

"  Wrong  must  be  wrong  for  anybody,"  said  Bessie. 


LATE  TALKING.  85 

"And  you  mean  to  go  on  helping  Kath  with  her 
dress  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  have  promised  to  help ;  and  I  can't  think 
that  is  wrong.  I  have  not  to  judge  for  Kath.  Please, 
Bessie,  I  would  rather  not  go  on  talking  now; 
another  day,  please." 

Katie  lifted  her  face  for  a  kiss,  and  Bessie  be- 
stowed it,  not  without  coldness.  She  seemed  per- 
plexed what  to  do,  half  began  a  remonstrance,  then 
hesitated  and  left  the  room.  Katie  bowed  her  face 
low  on  the  Bible,  with  one  little  sob.  "  Lord,  Thou 
knowest  all  things ;  Thou  knowest  that  I  love  Thee," 
she  murmured. 


CHAPTER  IX. 
MR.  BALFOUR'S  GIFT. 

*jg)  ATIE  went  through  a  good  deal  of  troubled 
thought  in  the  next  few  days.  Perplexi- 
ties  seemed  to  have  come  early  in  her 
new  home ;  and  Katie's  sensitive  conscience  was 
stirred  and  uneasy. 

Was  Elizabeth  right?  Was  she  herself  in  the 
wrong  ?  She  pondered  the  matter  anxiously  at 
times,  as  she  sat  helping  Kath  in  preparations  for 
the  birthday  party.  Kath  made  full  use  of  her 
fingers,  always  with  kind  apologies  and  warm  grati- 
tude. Katie  dearly  loved  to  be  useful,  and  had  no 
dislike  to  needlework. 

Sometimes,  however,  a  painful  sense  of  unfitness, 
of  incongruity,  came  over  her,  as  she  listened  to 
Kath's  light  chatter,  and  saw  Grace's  eager  absorp- 
tion in  the  subject,  and  noted  the  latter's  fragile 
look.  What  if  Gracie  were  indeed  rapidly  nearing 
the  end  of  life?  How  terribly  sad  if  her  thoughts 

86 


MR.  DALFOUR'S  GIFT.  87 

were  indeed  set  upon  these  things,  and  these  things 
only  ! 

Then  Bessie  would  appear,  busy,  moody,  p re-occu- 
pied, absorbed  in  her  own  concerns,  holding  herself 
aloof  with  a  cold  disregard  from  family  interests, 
and  carelessly  giving  offence  right  and  left,  from  the 
lack  of  a  little  thought  and  painstaking.  Again  the 
sense  of  unfitness  and  incongruity  pressed  heavily 
on  Katie. 

One  day  she  wrote  a  long  letter  to  her  father,  de- 
scribing in  detail  her  life  at"  The  Walnuts,"  explain- 
ing fully  her  difficulties,  and  asking  his  advice.  But 
when  she  read  over  what  was  written,  it  occurred  to 
her  that  Mr.  Balfour  might  be  worried,  might  think 
his  child  not  happy  in  his  brother's  house.  Katie 
knew  that  any  kind  of  worry  was  undesirable  for 
him ;  so  she  put  the  sheet  into  the  fire,  and  rewrote 
the  whole. 

Another  meeting  with  "  Aunt  Chattie  "  did  not 
take  place  so  quickly  as  Katie  had  hoped.  Mrs. 
Carrington's  cold  proved  to  be  an  attack  of  some- 
thing very  like  bronchitis;  and  for  a  fortnight  or 
more,  she  was  a  prisoner  to  her  bedroom,  forbidden 
to  see  visitors,  or  to  use  her  voice  in  talking. 
"  All  the  fault  of  that  wretched  Nutshell  of  a 
house!"  her  brother-in-law  declared.  But  as  Mrs. 
Carrington  had  been  all  her  life  subject  to  such 


88  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

attacks, . Katie  could  not  see  why  "The  Nutshell" 
needed  to  be  blamed. 

After  that  evening  conversation,  Katie  was  con- 
scious of  a  marked  holding  aloof  on  the  part 
of  Elizabeth.  It  was  as  if  her  cousin  said — "  You 
have  chosen  your  path ;  mine  lies  apart."  Katie 
would  not  yield  to  feelings  of  annoyance,  but  she 
did  not  think  that,  had  their  positions  been  reversed, 
she  would  have  acted  differently  towards  Bessie.  If 
she  had  thought  Bessie  in  the  wrong,  she  would  at 
least  have  tried  to  win  her  to  the  right  by  kindness. 

Another  fact,  dawning  slowly  upon  Katie's  con- 
sciousness, was  that  Kath,  with  all  her  sweetness 
and  lovable  ways,  possessed  a  somewhat  jealous 
temper-.  The  signs  of  this  were  for  a  while  slight 
and  rare,  bub  decisive. 

Kath's  evening  dress  was  nearly  completed  when, 
one  morning,  Mr.  Balfour  came  bustling  into  the 
room — he  always  had  a  pompous  busy  air  about 
everything  that  he  did — with  a  brown-paper  parcel 
in  his  arms.  Katie  wished  much  that  it  had  not 
been  in  her  power  to  guess  what  the  said  parcel 
contained,  as  Mr.  Balfour  laid  it  before  her. 

"  Something  for  you,  Katie,"  he  said,  beaming  with 
a  delighted  consciousness  of  generosity.  "  Kath's 
notion !  I've  taken  your  hint,  Kath,  my  dear. 
Yes,  it  is  yours,  Katie." 


MR.  DALFOUR'S  GIFT.  89 

If  Katie  showed  less  surprise  than  others  expected, 
she  certainly  did  not  show  less  pleasure.  Her  thanks 
were  warm,  even  before  she  saw  the  delicate  India- 
muslin  which  lay  folded  within  the  brown  paper, 
cream-coloured  like  Kath's,  but  of  finer  texture, 
and  beautifully  embroidered.  Katie  flushed,  and 
exclaimed,  "  Oh,  it  is  too  lovely — a  great  deal  too 
lovely  for  me." 

"  Why,  it  is  ever  so  much  better  than  Kath's ! " 
exclaimed  Winnie. 

"  Well,  I  thought  the  first  present  I  have  ever 
given  to  my  brother's  child  shouldn't  be  a  shabby 
one,"  said  Mr.  Balfour.  "  You'll  do  now,  Katie,  on 
the  birthday  night,  eh  ? " 

"  It  is  too  pretty,"  repeated  Katie.  She  was  sud- 
denly aware  of  looks  exchanged  between  Kath  and 
Winnie,  and  she  knew  that  Kath  was  not  pleased. 
Mrs.  Balfour's  face  showed  annoyance.  So  did 
Elizabeth's,  though  from  a  different  cause.  She 
evidently  disapproved  of  Katie's  gratification — 
after  all,  by  no  means  an  unmixed  gratification. 
Grace  alone  smiled  with  kind  sympathy. 

"  I  would  offer  to  have  it  made  up  for  you,  but 
there  is  no  need  with  such  a  clever  little  woman 
in  the  house  as  Kath.  She  beats  all  the  dress- 
makers hollow,"  said  Mr.  Lalfour,  unconscious  of 
the  shadow  on  Kath's  face.  He  made  his  way 


90  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

out  of  the  room,  and  Katie  sat  with  the  open 
parcel  upon  her  knees,  hardly  knowing  what  to  say 
or  do  next. 

"  Kath,  you  ought  to  have  gone  with  your  father," 
said  Mrs.  Balfour.  "  He  always  blunders  alone.  It 
is  an  absurd  choice.  I  told  him  to  get  a  plain 
grenadine.  And  black  would  have  been  ten  times 
as  useful." 

"  Katie  will  just  cut  out  Kath  altogether,"  said 
Winnie,  with  a  girlish  liking  to  stir  up  mud. 
"  If  father  had  got  something  different,  it  wouldn't 
have  signified ;  but  to  go  and  choose  a  second, 
exactly  like  his  present  to  Kath,  only  ten  times 
better  ! — I  shouldn't  like  to  wear  yours  beside  it, 
Kath." 

"  I  don't  know  how  in  the  world  it  is  to  be  made 
by  the  29th,"  said  Kath  shortly.  "  I  have  Gracie's 
to  see  after." 

"  Pray  don't  say  that  to  your  father,  or  he  will 
insist  on  putting  it  out  to  a  dressmaker,"  said 
Mrs.  Balfour,  rising  ;  and  Katie  heard  the  little 
succeeding  mutter,  "  Quite  enough  expense  already." 
Pleasure  in  her  present  was  gone ;  and  Grace  looked 
pityingly  at  her  downcast  face. 

"  It  was  so  kind  of  Kath  to  think  of  asking  Uncle," 
Katie  said  in  a  low  voice. 

"  I  don't  believe  Kath  would  have  asked  him, 


MR.  BALFOUR'S  GIFT.  91 

if  she  had  guessed  that  he  would  get  a  prettier 
dress  than  hers,"  said  Winnie,  as  Mrs.  Balfour 
quitted  the  room,  summoning  Bessie  to  follow  her. 
"  You'll  cut  out  Kath  altogether." 

"  Oh  no ;  that  is  quite  impossible,"  Katie  answered, 
with  grave  sincerity.  "  Kath  is  so  very  pretty ;  and 
I  am  not  pretty  at  all." 

"  I  mean  in  your  dress,  of  course.  There's  mother 
calling  you,  Kath ;  and  I  must  be  off  to  my  drawing- 
class.  I  expect  mother's  in  a  way ! "  with  which 
consoling  suggestion  Winnie  withdrew. 

Kath's  moodiness  seemed  slightly  lessened  by 
Katie's  last  words;  but  she  said  nothing,  only 
worked  on  with  bent  head,  till  Mrs.  Balfour's  voice 
again  called  her  name.  Then  she  threw  down  the 
dress-bodice  and  disappeared,  showing  an  unwonted 
impatience.  Katie,  left  alone  with  Grace,  looked  at 
her  sorrowfully. 

"Never  mind.  It  will  all  come  right,"  Grace  said. 
"I  am  glad  my  father  has  chosen  such  a  pretty 
muslin." 

"  If  only  it  had  been  plainer ! " 

"  You  must  not  mind,"  repeated  Grace.  "  Father 
only  meant  to  give  you  pleasure,  dear.  And  Kath 
will  not  really  care.  It  is  only  just  at  the  first 
moment.  Poor  Katie ! " 

Grace's  kind  look  almost  upset  Katie.     She  laid 


92  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

aside  the  parcel  and  went  to  the  couch,  putting  her 
face  on  the  pillow  beside  Grace's,  with  a  feeling  that 
here  comfort  might  be  found. 

"Dear  Katie!  I  am  so  sorry  you  should  have 
the  worry.  But  it  will  all  come  right,  it  will  in- 
deed," Grace  said  lovingly.  "You  mustn't  think  so 
much  of  a  few  quick  words.  It  doesn't  do  to  be  too 
sensitive.  In  a  family  like  ours,  things  can't  always 
go  quite  straight,  you  know,  —  so  many  different 
people  to  please.  Living  alone  with  your  father 
must  have  been  very  different." 

"  If  only  somebody  cared  for  me  here ! "  broke 
from  Katie's  full  heart. 

"  Somebody  does,  for  I  do.  Katie,  I  love  you  very 
much,"  Gracie  assured  her  tenderly.  "  I  have  loved 
you  from  the  very  first  day.  And  you  must  love  me 
too,  and  come  and  tell  me  your  little  worries.  It  is 
always  best  to  speak  of  them  to  somebody,  and  then 
they  seem  less.  Be  sure  you  do,  for  I  shall  like  it. 
Now  don't  be  unhappy  any  more,  for  it  is  quite  true 
that  I  am  very  fond  of  you ;  and  you  won't  be  able 
ta  say  again  that  there  is  nobody  to  care." 

If  Katie's  heart  had  not  been  won  before,  it  was 
won  now.  She  kissed  Grace  passionately,  alike 
stirred  and  consoled. 

"Gracie,  mayn't  I  sometimes  do  things  for  you, 
— anything  you  want  done  ? " 


MR.  BALFOUR'S  GIFT.  93 

"  I  should  like  it  very  much.  Only  we  must  be 
just  a  little  careful  not  to  give  Kath  pain,"  Grace 
said  softly,  as  if  afraid  of  being  overheard.  "  You 
see,  she  has  always  been  my  especial  sister,  and  she 
likes  to  do  everything  she  can  for  me.  But  perhaps 
sometimes " 

"  Don't  you  think  some  of  the  embroidery  might 
go  on  Kath's  dress  ? "  asked  Katie,  after  a  pause. 

"  Better  not  propose  it,  I  think.  My  father  might 
notice.  Besides,  it  isn't  only  a  question  of  the  dress 
looking  better,"  added  Grace.  "Kath  is  his  pet; 
and  perhaps — I  think  she  is  just  a  little  hurt  at  his 
giving  something  better  to  somebody  else.  But  that 
will  not  last.  It  will  all  come  right,  so  you  must 
not  worry  yourself.  I  think,  if  I  were  you,  I  would 
put  away  the  dress  now ;  and  some  day,  soon,  Kath 
will  propose  to  cut  it  out  for  you." 


CHAPTER  X. 
FROM  KATIE'S  FATHER. 

dull  and  foggy  days  after  the 
middle  of  November  were  succeeded  by 
one  of  bright  sunshine,  and  of  spring-like 
warmth.  Katie  enjoyed  the  change  heartily.  She 
went  off  after  luncheon,  for  a  ramble  on  the  Downs 
at  the  lower  end  of  the  valley,  having  been  at  work 
all  the  morning. 

Grace's  birthday  dress  was  nearly  finished,  and 
Katie  had  helped  much  in  the  making.  Her  own 
embroidered  muslin  lay  still  untouched  in  a  drawer. 
Katie  wondered  sometimes  how  it  was  to  be  made 
up  by  the  29th.  Hardly  more  than  a  week  now 
remained,  and  she  had  not  ventured  to  recur  to  the 
subject.  Nobody  else  spoke  of  it. 

Kath  had  resumed  her  earlier  manner  towards 
Katie,  yet  with  a  difference.  She  seemed  at  times 
to  be  on  the  look-out  lest  her  father  should  display 
any  peculiar  warmth  towards  Katie;  and  on  certain 

94 


FROM  KATIE'S  FATHER.  95 

days,  there  was  a  touch  of  irritability  towards  every- 
body except  Grace.  Other  people  did  not  show 
surprise  at  these  changes  of  mood,  so  Katie  sup- 
posed them  to  be  not  unusual.  She  thought  Kath 
still  most  lovable  and  attractive;  but  the  slight 
uncertainty  as  to  moods  was  checking,  and  her 
greatest  warmth  of  love  went  out  towards  Grace. 
Caution  there,  however,  she  found  to  be  even  more 
necessary.  If  Kath  was  jealous  about  her  father, 
she  was  doubly  jealous  as  to  her  position  with 
Grace. 

Katie  had  to  content  herself  with  solitary  rambles, 
commonly.  She  dearly  liked  walking,  but  she  stood 
almost  alone  in  the  taste.  Kath  cared  only  for  calls 
and  shoppings;  Elizabeth  had  no  leisure  to  spare 
from  parish  occupations ;  and  Winnie  was  busy 
perpetually  with  her  classes. 

In  summer  weather  these  grassy  Downs,  studded 
with  occasional  bushes,  were  somewhat  overcrowded 
with  the  good  folks  of  Penshurst  strolling  out  to 
enjoy  the  fresh  air.  But  not  many  cared  to  climb 
the  heights  in  November,  even  on  so  sunny  a  day  as 
this,  and  Katie  found  herself  for  once  free  to  enjoy 
almost  solitude.  She  did  enjoy  it  thoroughly,  and 
pressed  up  the  hill-side  with  eager  feet. 

A  long  letter  had  arrived  from  her  father  that 

morning,  full  of  cheer  for  Katie.     He  seemed  already 

G 


96  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

better  and  stronger  for  the  change,  and  was  also  find- 
ing kind  friends  amid  new  surroundings. 

"I  am  much  grieved  with  your  account  of  poor 
Grace,"  he  wrote.  "  She  was  a  sweet  girl  when  I 
saw  her  last.  Saddest  of  all,  that  none  are  allowed 
to  speak  to  her  of  her  state.  There  may  be  much 
serious  thought  going  on  below  the  surface,  which 
no  one  can  see;  but  surely  she  needs  help.  One 
can  but  pray  that  her  eyes  may  be  opened  in 
time. 

"  You  do  not  tell  me  of  any  little  troubles  or  diffi- 
culties, and  that  makes  me  the  more  sure  that  all 
does  not  go  smoothly  in  your  new  home.  Something 
in  the  tone  of  your  last  letter  convinces  me  of  this. 

"My  dear,  you  need  not  be  afraid  to  tell  your 
old  father  everything.  It  will  not  hurt  me  to 
hear,  and  I  may  be  able  to  help  you  with  a  few 
words. 

"  If  you  want  an  immediate  adviser  on  any  point, 
do  not  be  afraid  to  go  to  Chattie  Carrington.  She  is 
always  true,  and  always  thorough. 

"  You  will,  of  course,  find  very  much  in  your  pre- 
sent quarters  different  from  what  you  have  been  ac- 
customed to  at  Eckham.  But  don't  make  up  your 
little  mind  that  everything  belonging  to  Eckhaui 
must  needs  be  right,  and  that  everything  differing 
from  Eckham  ways  must  needs  be  wrong.  Try  to 


FROM  KATIE'S  FATHER.  97 

take  each  question  on  its  own  ground,  and  weigh  it 
independently.  There  is  a  broad  margin  wherein 
opinions  and  modes  of  action  do  and  must  differ,  and 
a  good  deal  of  allowance  has  to  be  made  for  dif- 
ferences of  bringing-up,  varieties  of  character,  and 
diversities  of  surroundings. 

"  I  am  not  speaking  of  any  one  difficulty  in  parti- 
cular, but  only  with  a  view  to  your  position,  my 
darling.  Coming  suddenly  out  of  your  peaceful 
little  home-nest,  it  is  quite  a  plunge  into  the  world 
for  you,  and  it  is  hardly  possible  that  you  should  not 
be  sometimes  puzzled  what  course  to  pursue. 

"Well,  and  if  you  are,  remember — 'Keep  THY 
HEART  with  all  diligence,  for  out  of  it  are  the  issues 
of  life.'  If  the  heart  of  a  tree  is  healthy,  not 
much  is  likely  to  be  wrong  with  the  leaves  and 
flowers. 

" '  Let  thine  eyes  look  right  on,  and  let  thine  eye- 
lids look  straight  before  thee.'  Be  clear  and  decided 
fur  yourself, — which  does  not  at  all  mean  judging  for 
others. 

" '  Ponder  the  path  of  thy  feet,  and  let  all  thy  ways 
be  established.'  And  with  this  join  the  promise, '  In 
all  thy  ways  acknowledge  Him,  and  He  shall  direct 
thy  paths.'  So  guidance  is  promised  for  every  step, 
if  only  we  will  look  for  it." 

"  Dear  father !  he  does  so  exactly  understand  what 


98  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

I  want,  even  without  my  telling  him,"  murmured 
Katie.  She  had  been  re-reading  parts  of  the  letter 
pacing  up  and  down  the  grassy  summit  of  the  long 
low  hill.  Now  she  folded  the  sheet,  put  it  away, 
and  looked  up,  to  see  Harold  Carrington  coming  to- 
wards her. 

"  How  do  you  do  ?  What,  all  alone  ?  "  he  asked, 
liftin"  his  hat  and  shaking  hands. 

o  o 

"  I  don't  mind  being  alone, — I  am  used  to  it  in  the 
country,"  said  Katie.  "  And  I  don't  think  my  cousins 
care  for  a  ramble  as  I  do." 

"  So  much  the  greater  pity.  It  is  a  glorious  day, 
and  my  mother  will  not  let  me  stay  indoors  with  her. 
By-the-bye,  she  wishes  to  see  you  again." 

"  Aunt  Euth  says  talking  makes  her  cough,  and  I 
ought  not  to  go  yet." 

Harold  laughed  slightly.  "  My  mother  and  Aunt 
Euth  seem  to  differ.  Come  and  see  her  to-morrow, 
if  you  can.  Perhaps  she  has  talked  enough  to-day. 
But  she  is  much  better  now ;  only  a  prisoner  still. 
Are  you  going  home  ? " 

"  I  think  I  ought.  It  will  be  getting  dusk 
soon." 

"  Will  you  let  me  show  you  another  way  back  ? " 
asked  Harold.  "It  is  a  prettier  road.  You  and 
I  are  to  be  cousins,  you  know!" — as  she  hesi- 
tated. 


FROM  KATIE'S  FATHER.  99 

"I  should  like  it  very  much,"  said  Katie,  "if  it 
isn't  taking  you  too  far." 

"I  hope  you  have  been  gone  long  enough,"  said 
Winnie,  when  Katie  came  in ;  only  Elizabeth  beside 
being  in  the  room.  "  I  don't  believe  the  tea  is 
drinkable  by  this  time.  It  came  up  early  for  a 
caller." 

"Oh,  I  don't  mind  about  the  tea,"  said  Katie, 
looking  very  bright. 

"  Where  have  you  been  ?  Mother  won't  like  you 
to  ramble  about  on  the  Downs  after  dusk." 

"  I  didn't,  Winnie.  It  was  light  when  I  left  the 
Downs;  and  Harold  Carrington  walked  back  with 
me." 

"Have  you  been  to  Aunt  Chattie's?  I  thought 
mother  said " 

"  No,  I  met  Harold  on  the  Downs.  I  am  to  go 
and  see  Aunt  Chattie  to-morrow." 

Winnie  drew  her  lips  together  with  a  peculiar 
expression. 

"  Well,  I  advise  you  just  to  keep  quiet  about  your 
walk  with  Harold,"  she  said.  "  That  won't  be  liked ! 
You  can  help  yourself  to  tea,  I  suppose." 

Winnie  looked  too  indolent  to  move,  and  Katie 
obeyed,  finding  a  lukewarm  beverage.  "I  don't 
understand,"  she  said  gravely.  "Was  there  any 


loo  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

harm  ?  He  offered  to  show  me  a  second  way  home, 
and  I  did  not  like  to  refuse." 

"  Oh,  it  doesn't  matter ;  only  you  had  better  be 
wise,  and  not  talk.  It's  lucky  for  you  that  mother 
and  Kath  have  gone  out  to  tea  at  Mrs.  Prince's. 
We  have  had  one  fuss  already  this  afternoon." 

"I  should  not  like  to  hide  anything,  especially 
if  it  were  wrong." 

"  There  wasn't  anything  wrong,  and  you  haven't 
got  to  hide  it;  only  just  to  hold  your  tongue. 
People  are  not  obliged  to  talk,"  said  Winnie ;  "  and 
I  don't  see  why  you  should  be  obliged  to  snub 
Harold,  just  because  Kath  likes  a  monopoly  of 
everybody.  Mother  thinks  he  admires  Kath  im- 
mensely, but  /  don't  believe  he  does.  And  I  don't 
believe  Kath  cares  one  scrap  for  him;  only  she 
likes  all  the  world  to  run  after  her." 

Katie  stood  thinking.  "  Is  Gracie  upstairs  ? " 
she  asked. 

"  In  her  room.  Didn't  Gracie  say  something 
about  Katie  going  to  her  ? "  asked  Winnie,  turning 
to  Elizabeth. 

"I  don't  know.  Yes,  she  did.  I  believe  she 
thought  Katie  would  be  back  sooner,"  Elizabeth 
said,  in  an  uncomfortable  and  almost  sullen 
tone. 

"I'm  so  sorry.     I'll  go  at  once;"    and  in  half 


FROM  KATIE'S  FATHER.  101 

a   minute  Katie  was  tapping  at  Grace's   bedroom 
door. 

A  large  fire  blazed  within,  and  Grace  lay  on  the 
sofa  near  it,  looking  unwontedly  sad.  She  had  fits 
of  depression  sometimes,  though  usually  bright ;  and 
Katie  fancied  that  one  of  these  fits  was  on  her 
now. 

"  Gracie,  I  am  so  sorry  not  to  have  come  earlier," 
she  said.  "  I  only  heard  just  now  that  you  wanted 
me." 

"Kath  had  to  go  out  with  mother.  I  thought 
you  would  not  mind  for  a  little  while " 

"  Oh  no  ;  I  love  to  do  anything  for  you.  If  only 
I  had  known  that  Kath  would  be  out,  I  should  have 
come  home  a  great  deal  sooner." 

Grace  sighed  faintly. 

"  I  am  afraid  you  don't  feel  so  well  this  after- 
noon," said  Katie. 

"  No,  I  don't  think  I  do,  only  I  didn't  like  to  say 
it  to  Kath.  She  has  too  much  on  her  hands,  and 
she  does  so  want  me  to  be  well  for  the  29th.  But 
sometimes  I  think " 

Katie  looked  at  her  anxiously. 

"  Yes,  darling  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  Only  I  almost  dread  the 
bustle.  Everything  tires  me  so  now.  Dear  little 
Kath  has  worked  so  hard  to  get  my  dress  done.  I 


102  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

ain  sure  she  works  too  hard,  arid  you  must  not  say 
a  word  to  her.  Only — if " 

Another  sigh  broke  into  Grace's  words. 

"  Dearest-! "  whispered  Katie. 

"  There  has  been  so  much  worry  to-day.  Bessie 
says  she  cannot  be  at  the  birthday  party,  and  my 
father  says  she  must.  If  she  is  not,  he  will  be  very 
angry.  I  can't  think  she  is  right  to  go  against 
him.  I  don't  thiuk  he  would  mind  so  much  if 
she  spoke  differently,  but  she  seems  to  be  so  sure 
everybody  is  in  the  wrong  except  herself.  I  am'so 
tired  of  it  all,"  sobbed  Grace,  suddenly  breaking  down. 

"Bessie  ought  not  to  have  worried  you,"  Katie 
said,  trying  to  soothe  the  poor  girl.  "  It  could  not 
be  right.  Don't  mind  crying  a  little ;  it  will  do  you 
good,  darling.  And  don't  think  any  more  about 
Bessie  just  now." 

"  She  did  not  mean — it  was  not  said  to  me," 
murmured  Grace.  "  Only  I  suppose  she  was 
excited.  Bessie  often  gets  excited.  She  seemed 
to  think  it  wrong  to  have  my  birthday  party  at 
all,  and  still  more  just  now,  because  I  am  ill. 
Father  was  so  angry  at  that, — he  went  away  and 
slammed  the  door." 

"  Bessie  isn't  wise,"  was  all  Katie  said. 

"  And  it  isn't  as  if  I  were  so  very  ill,  you  know, 
dear.  They  all  say  I  am  better." 


FROM  KATIE'S  FATHER.  103 

Katie  offered  110  response  to  this.  She  could  not 
help  thinking  how  terribly  wasted  was  the  slight 
figure  she  held  in  her  arms,  kneeling  by  the  couch ; 
could  not  help  noting  how  short  and  panting  was 
Grace's  breath. 

"  Do  you  think  me  better,  Katie  ? " 

The  question  came  suddenly,  taking  Katie  by 
surprise.  She  waited  before  answering,  and  her 
heart  beat  fast.  A  troubled  look  came  into  Grace's 
large  blue  eyes. 

"  I  should  not  have  thought  you  better  since  I 
came,"  she  said  slowly.  "  But  .that  is  not  a  long 
time,  and  I  am  not  much  of  a  judge.  What  does 
your  doctor  say  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  He  doesn't  tell  me  either  way. 
Some  days  I  feel  quite  bright,  and  I  really  seem 
getting  on  well — only  not  to-day.  But  one  must 
be  tired  sometimes.  That  isn't  being  worse,  you 
know.  It  is  only  that  I  have  been  worried,  and 
I'm  not  strong,  so  I  can't  stand  much." 

"  No,  darling,"  was  all  Katie  said. 

"  I  shall  be  stronger  when  spring  comes  on. 
The  cold  doesn't  suit  me." 

Katie  hardly  knew  what  to  answer.  She  stroked 
lovingly  the  thin  cheeks  and  the  damp  pale  brow. 
Then  she  found  herself  saying  softly,  "Jesus  knows 


104  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

how  tired  you  are,  Gracie  darling.  He  was  so  tired 
Himself  sometimes." 

Grace's  fingers  tightened  into  a  grasp  of  Katie's 
hand — a  wordless  response. 

"And  He  is  so  loving,  isn't  He?"  whispered 
Katie.  "  He  feels  so  for  us !  Don't  you  always 
love  to  think  of  those  words :  l  As  one  whom  his 
mother  comforteth,  so  will  I  comfort  you '  ?  It  is 
just  motherly  comforting  that  one  wants  when  one 
is  weak." 

Still  no  reply,  except  another  quick  warm  pressure 
of  her  hand.  Grace  did  not  seem  inclined  to  speak. 
Katie  wondered  whether  she  might  venture  to  say 
more,  and  decided  to  wait. 

"  Kath  will  be  coming  home  soon,  I  suppose  ? " 
she  said  presently. 

"  Yes.  Katie,  won't  you  get  a  chair  ?  You  will 
be  stiff  with  kneeling." 

"  Oh,  I  like  it ;  I  am  very  strong.  Do  you  feel 
a  little  more  rested  now?" 

"  Yes, — a  little.  You  hold  me  so  nicely,"  Grace 
said  in  her  grateful  way.  "  I  have  such  a  feeling 
of  sinking  to-day,  as  if  I  wanted  holding  up;  but 
don't  tell  Kath  ;  it  makes  her  unhappy." 

"  Would  Kath  wish  you  to  have  the  party,  if  she 
knew  it  would  be  too  much  for  you  ? "  asked  Katie. 


FROM  KATIE'S  FATHER.  105 

"  She  thinks  it  will  do  me  good.  They  all  say  I 

want  cheering  up.  And  perhaps if  I  am  pretty 

strong  that  day, only  I  do  get  so  very  tired  now. 

I  think  it  must  be  the  weather." 

Gracie  closed  her  eyes  and  lay  still,  with  her 
head  on  Katie's  shoulder,  seeming  to  sink  into  a 
doze. 


CHAPTER  XL 
THE    BLUE    DRESS. 

FTEE  a  short  time,  during  which  there  was 
no  sound  but  that  of  the  flickering  flames, 
steps  were  audible  outside,  but  Grace  did 
not  stir,  and  Katie  could  not  attempt  a  change  of 
position.  Kath  came  in  smilingly. 

"Well,  dearie,  how  are  you?"  she  began.  Then 
she  stopped  short,  and  a  look  came  into  her  face 
which  Katie  had  seen  there  before,  and  had  learnt 
to  understand. 

"  I  think  Gracie  was  almost  asleep,"  said  Katie. 

"  I  hope  not.  She  will  lie  awake  all  night,"  said 
Kath  shortly. 

"  Have  you  had  a  nice  time  at  Mrs.  Prince's, 
Kath  dear  ? "  asked  Grace,  releasing  her  cousin  by 
a  slight  movement. 

"  Pretty  well,"  Kath  said,  in  the  same  tone. 

"  Katie  has  been  taking  care  of  me  while  you  were 

106 


THE  BLUE  DRESS.  107 

away, — part  of  the  time.  Kath,  won't  you  show  her 
my  new  dress,  now  it  is  finished  ? " 

"  There  is  no  need.  Katie  saw  it  this  morning, 
and  I  have  not  worked  much  since.  Besides, 
I  can't  tell  whether  it  is  really  done  till  you  have 
tried  it  on." 

"  Would  you  like  me  to  try  it  on  now  ? " 

"Oh,  not  to-day;  you  are  not  well  enough," 
began  Katie ;  but  a  slight  touch  from  Grace's  hand 
checked  further  remonstrance,  and  Kath  at  once 
took  the  opposite  side. 

"  Of  course,  the  sooner  the  better.  I  have  Katie's 
dress  to  do  next,  and  I  don't  know  how  in  the  world 
to  manage  it." 

"  Oh,  but "  Katie  began. 

"  I  should  like  to  try  on  mine  now,  very  much," 
said  Grace  cheerfully.  "  It  will  do  me  good.  I  have 
been  lying  quiet  till  I  am  stupid.  Where  is  the 
dress  ?  I  am  sure  Katie  will  fetch  it." 

No ;  Kath  went  off  for  it  herself.  Grace  gave  one 
sigh,  and  murmured,  "  Poor  Kath  ! "  Almost  imme- 
diately Kath  returned. 

"  It  was  in  the  spare  room,"  she  said,  with  more  of 
her  usual  pleasantness.  "  You  are  sure  you  would 
like  to  put  it  on  now  ?  Well,  we  must  have  one  or 
two  more  lights." 

Katie  was  glad  to  be  allowed  to  procure  extra 


io8  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

candles.  Then  they  both  helped  Grace  to  stand  up, 
and  arrayed  her  in  the  pretty  pale-blue  silk,  with 
cream-lace  ruffles  round  throat  and  wrists. 

The  dress  certainly  did  suit  her  very  well.  A  slight 
flush  had  come  to  her  cheeks,  and  a  brightness  to  the 
blue  eyes.  Katie  had  never  seen  her  look  prettier. 
Kath  was  delighted  with  the  results  of  her  toil,  and 
she  walked  round,  surveying  Grace's  tall  slender 
figure  from  all  points,  noting  the  need  for  a  slight 
change  here,  or  suggesting  a  possible  improvement 
there,  becoming  perfectly  good-tempered  herself  once 
more. 

"  Gracie,  you  are  just  lovely  ! "  she  cried.  "  I  do 
believe  you  will  be  more  admired  this  birthday  than 
ever  before." 

A  faint  smile  crossed  Grace's  face. 

"  I  must  get  a  little  fatter  before  that  will  be 
possible,  Kath.  People  don't  admire  skin  and 
bones." 

"  You  are  not  '  skin  and  bones.'  Nonsense ! 
Your  face  never  looks  so  very  thin,  and  it  has 
plenty  of  colour  sometimes  ;  and  I  have  put  any 
amount  of  wadding  into  the  bodice.  Katie,  doesn't 
she  look  sweet  ? " 

Katie  tried  to  say  "Yes,"  and  failed.  Grace's 
fair  and  fragile  beauty  struck  to  her  heart  with  a 
keen  pain. 


"  Grade,  you  are  just  lovely ! "  she  cried.—  Page  108. 


THE  BLUE  DRESS.  ill 

"  Why,  Katie,  dear ! "  Grace  said  in  surprise. 

Kath  stepped  behind  Grace  and  gave  Katie  a 
furious  look  of  reminder.  Katie  mastered  with 
haste  her  momentary  agitation,  and  said,  "  I  never 
saw  anybody  prettier." 

"  You  are  both  trying  your  best  to  make  me  very 
conceited.  If  I  did  not  know  it  to  be  all  owing  to 
Kath's  work " 

"  You're  not  the  only  person  I  make  dresses  for, 
my  dear  Gracie,"  said  Kath.  "  But  the  after-effect 
isn't  always  the  same."  She  turned  away  to  pick 
up  some  scraps  of  lace,  laying  them  on  a  table. 
"  I  am  glad  that  is  satisfactory.  Katie  will  have 
to  work  hard  with  me  at  her  dress  now.  I  have 
an  immense  amount  to  do,  getting  up  the  charades. 
Father  declares  he  won't  have  dancing,  or  anything 
else  in  which  you  can't  join.  I  am  going  now  to  call 
mother  to  look  at  you." 

A  faint  sigh,  and  Grace  spoke  in  an  altered  tone: 
"  Kath,  please  wait ;  I  almost  think " 

Kath  was  moving  towards  the  door,  but  she 
stopped  at  once,  and  turned.  "Why,  Gracie,  are 
you  tired  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.     I  feel  so  strange.     0  Kath ! " 

Katie's  arm  was  already  round  Grace,  supporting 
her  in  the  few  steps  to  the  sofa.  There  was  a  slight 
cough,  as  Grace  lay  back,  and  she  sat  up  again  with 


ri2  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

her  handkerchief  pressed  to  her  mouth.  White  one 
instant,  a  red  stain  showed  through  it  the  next, 
and  the  handkerchief  had  not  been  whiter  than  was 
Grace's  terrified  face  now,  as  she  looked  towards 
her  sister. 

"  Kath !  O  Kath  ! "  came  in  agonised  appeal, 
and  again  the  cough  sounded,  with  renewed  flow 
of  blood. 

Colourless  to  the  lips  as  Grace  herself,  Kath 
seemed  at  the  instant  stunned  with  horror.  It 
was  Katie,  not  Kath,  who  with  firm  grasp  laid  back 
the  almost  fainting  girl. 

"  Gracie,  hush ! — don't  move, — don't  speak,"  she 
implored.  "  Kath,  keep  her  still,  while  I  call  some 
one!" 

But  Grace's  fingers  clutched  Katie's  hand  con- 
vulsively, and  she  could  not  stir.  It  was  no  time 
for  discussion.  Kath  rushed  away. 


CHAPTER  XII. 
NIGHT-WATCHING. 

had  never  so  felt  her  own  helplessness 
as  during  the  long  hours  of  the  following 
night. 

Gracie  lay  on  the  very  brink  of  the  Death-river ; 
and  they  all  knew  it.  The  flow  of  blood  was 
checked;  but  at  any  moment  it  might  recur;  and 
if  it  did,  there  was  little  or  no  hope. 

The  doctor,  Mr.  Willoughby,  was  long  in  the 
house ;  and  when  he  left,  it  was  with  a  promise  to 
return  soon.  A  nurse  had  been  telegraphed  for,  but 
was  not  expected  to  arrive  before  morning. 

Mrs.  Balfour  proved  hysterically  useless,  and 
though  in  and  out  of  the  room,  she  could  not  be 
depended  on.  Elizabeth,  admitted  for  half-an-hour, 
seemed  vague  and  helpless,  and  looked  so  wretched, 
that  the  effect  upon  Grace  was  manifestly  depress- 

"3 


H4  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

ing,  and  she  had  soon  to  be  banished.  Winnie  was 
judged  too  young  and  inexperienced  to  be  of  any 
service. 

The  work  of  nursing  therefore  fell  upon  Kath 
and  Katie.  Together  they  watched  beside  the  bed 
through  the  long  hours  of  darkness.  Young  as 
Katie  was,  she  had  seen  much  of  illness,  including 
this  particular  form  of  illness,  in  her  father's  parish ; 
and  although  Kath  had  been  absent  from  home  at 
the  beginning  of  Grace's  former  attack,  she  was  by 
nature  capable. 

Grace  lay  in  absolute  silence,  forbidden  to  move 
or  speak.  But  the  sad  frightened  eyes  wandered 
anxiously  from  one  to  another,  as  if  trying  to  read 
the  truth  in  faces  round ;  and  the  thin  fingers  clung 
persistently  to  Katie's  hand.  If  Katie  left  the  room 
for  five  minutes,  Grace  seemed  restless  and  impatient 
until  her  return.  Kath  would  not  have  liked  this 
generally,  but  it  was  a  time  when  jealousy  could 
have  no  place. 

The  slightest  sound  of  a  threatening  cough  sent  a 
shock  of  terror  through  the  girls,  as  if  it  had  been 
Grace's  possible  death-warrant.  Yet  hour  after  hour 
the  haemorrhage  kept  off,  and  Katie's  voiceless  prayers 
became  mingled  with  silent  thanksgivings. 


NIGHT-WATCHING.  115 

Once  only  Gracie  broke  the  long  silence  strictly 
enjoined  on  her. 

Kath  had  glided  out  of  the  room,  saying  only,  "  I 
shall  be  back  directly."  No  one  knew  why.  She 
seemed  so  cheerful  and  composed,  that  none  could 
have  guessed  how  near  the  poor  girl's  heart  was  to 
breaking,  at  the  terrible  thought  that  she  might  have 
had  a  hand  in  bringing  on  this  attack.  But  for 
Kath's  little  fit  of  jealousy,  she  would  have  seen 
that  Grace  was  in  no  state  that  afternoon  for  any 
needless  exertion.  The  haemorrhage  might  have 
taken  place  in  any  case ;  but  on  the  other  hand  it 
might  be  that  standing  about  to  try  on  the  new  dress 
was  just  the  one  effort  too  much.  Kath  hardly  knew 
how  to  endure  such  a  possibility.  She  did  endure  it 
for  hours,  without  a  sign ;  but  at  length  the  passion  of 
distress  rose  so  high,  that  a  few  minutes  of  solitude 
became  an  absolute  necessity,  if  she  would  conquer. 

The  parlour-maid,  Ann,  was  in  the  room,  nearly 
asleep  beside  the  fire,  and  no  one  else.  Practically, 
therefore,  Katie  found  herself  alone  with  the  sick 
girl.  Hardly  had  the  door  closed  behind  Kath,  when 
a  faint  voice  uttered  one  word :  "  Pray." 

"  Gracie,  darling,  I  am  praying  for  you  all  the 
time— every  moment." 


n 6  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

Katie  spoke  calmly,  leaning  over  the  bed.  She 
knew  that  there  must  be  no  agitation.  The  blue 
eyes  looked  up  into  hers  beseechingly,  and  again 
there  was  the  low  utterance :  "  Pray." 

Katie  could  not  hesitate.  She  knelt  down,  and 
softly  uttered  words  which  she  had  often  so  used 
before — words  which  have  gone  up  from  thousands 
of  sick-beds  through  centuries  past : — 

"  0  Lord,  look  down  from  heaven,  behold,  visit 
and  relieve  this  Thy  servant.  Look  upon  her  with 
the  eyes  of  Thy  mercy,  give  her  comfort  and  sure 
confidence  in  Thee,  defend  her  from  the  danger  of 
the  enemy,  and  keep  her  in  perpetual  peace  and 
safety ;  through  Jesus  Christ  our  Lord." 

It  seemed  to  Katie,  as  she  prayed,  that  all 
Gracie's  needs  were  comprised  in  these  few  beau- 
tiful petitions.  Gracie  clasped  her  hand  with  silent 
grateful  pressure.  Katie  stood  up  and  bent  over 
her  again. 

"  Gracie,  darling,  Jesus  has  heard,  and  He  will 
answer,"  she  said  very  gently.  "  He  always  hears, 
always  answers ;  and  He  loves  you  so  dearly." 

Again  the  slight  fingers  closed  round  hers. 

"  Yes,  you  must  do  that,  instead  of  speaking," 
Katie  went  on.  "  I  shall  know  what  it  means. 


NIGHT-WATCHING.  117 

And  there's  no  need  to  speak,  darling.  There's 
only  need  just  to  look  up  to  Him.  He  never 
refused  to  help  anybody  who  wanted  His  help. 
And  He  died  for  you.  That  means  everything, — 
all  the  pity  and  comfort  we  can  ever  want.  Shall 
I  say  you  one  short  hymn  now  ?  Don't  speak ;  only 
squeeze  my  hand  if  you  would  like  it." 

The  response  was  very  decided,  and  Katie  began, 
softly  and  slowly  still,  those  lines  by  Hetty  Bow- 
man:— 

"  Now  at  Thy  feet  I  lie, 

0  Savi.our  dear ; 
Let  Thine  own  healing  touch 
Fall  on  me  here. 

Nought  can  I  do  but  cling  : 

Tears  will  not  come  : 
Thoughts  float  away  from  me  ; 

Words  I  have  none. 

Only,  'Thou  knowest,  Lord,' 

This  I  can  say  : 
This  my  one  resting-place, 

All  through  my  way  ; 

All  that  I  cannot  tell 

Even  to  Thee, 
Straight  through  my  silence,  Lord, 

Thine  eyes  can  see. 


Ii8  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

All  my  wrong-doing,  Lord, 

Clear  in  Thy  sight ; 
Nothing  that  I  would  hidev 

E'en  if  I  might. 

Pain,  too,  and  suffering, 

None  near  to  heed  : 
Jesus,  my  Brother,  Friend, 

Thou  takest  heed. 

Thy  blood  can  cleanse  me,  Lord, 

Whiter  than  snow  ; 
Many  a  truth  I  miss, 

This  one  I  know. 

So  I  will  cling  to  Thee, 

So  wilt  Thou  keep, — 
E'eu  when  I  cannot  cling — 

Thy  weakest  sheep  !  " 

Before  the  close  of  the  second  verse,  Kath  came 
in.  Katie  could  hardly  subdue  a  nervous  tremor; 
but  Gracie  lay  intently  listening,  and  Katie  went 
on  without  any  apparent  hesitation.  At  the 

words — 

"  Pain,  too,  and  suffering, 
None  near  to  heed  ! " 

Grade's  eyes  went  from  one  to  another  in  evident 
protest ;  but  when  the  last  verse  came,  they  filled 
with  tears.  Her  hand  pressed  Katie's  anew.  Kath 


NIGHT-  WA  TCHING.  1 19 

was  standing  gravely  on  the  other  side  of  the 
bed. 

"  Gracie  ought  to  be  quiet  now,"  she  said.  Katie 
could  not  understand  the  tone.  She  noted  Kath's 
pale  cheeks  and  reddened  eyes,  both  of  which 
Kath  was  evidently  at  pains  to  conceal  from  the 
invalid. 

Grace  looked  more  peaceful,  and  presently  she 
sank  into  a  doze.  Mr.  Willoughby  found  her  thus 
when  he  called  before  breakfast  to  see  how  she  was 
getting  on;  and  the  opinion  he  expressed  was  on 
the  whole  favourable.  But  Katie  noted  that  there 
was  no  mention  of  real  recovery. 

Two  hours  later  the  nurse  arrived;  not  too  soon, 
for  the  girls  were  getting  worn-out.  She  seemed 
thoroughly  efficient,  fitting  into  her  place  at  once, 
and  advising  both  Katie  and  Kath  to  obtain  rest 
without  further  delay.  Gracie  had  fallen  asleep, 
and  Elizabeth  promised  to  wait  in  the  adjoining 
room,  and  to  call  them  in  a  moment,  if  they  should 
be  required. 

"  You  will  come  with  me  to  my  room,  Kath,  won't 
you  ? "  asked  Katie,  as  they  stood  outside. 

Kath  looked  white  and  dazed,  as  if  scarcely 
knowing  what  she  was  about.  Katie  took  her 


LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 


arm,  and  led  her  upstairs,  making  her  lie  down 
on  the  bed;  and  Kath  submitted  without  a  word. 
But  neither  of  them  could  sleep.  Katie,  lying 
beside  Kath,  knew  she  was  not  meant  to  hear  the 
smothered  sounds  of  long  low  weeping.  She  dared 
not  seem  to  hear,  lest  she  should  drive  Kath  away. 
No  word  passed  Kath's  lips  which  might  have  given 
Katie  a  clue  to  the  self-reproach  weighing  so  heavily 
upon  her. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 
THE  BIRTHDAY. 

ijHE  birthday  party  had  to  be  given  up ;  and 
the  blue  silk  dress  was  put  away.  Katie's 
Indian  muslin  lay  unmade  in  a  drawer; 
and  friends  were  one  and  all  put  off. 

Gracie  was  rallying  in  some  degree  from  her 
attack;  but  all  manner  of  excitement  was  strictly 
forbidden.  That  she  would  be  able  even  to  leave 
her  bed  was  more  than  they  had  ventured  to  hope. 
Yet  when  the  day  came,  she  really  seemed  brighter ; 
and  in  the  afternoon  she  was  lifted  to  the  sofa, 
to  lie  there,  smiling,  with  all  her  birthday  gifts 
around  her. 

Katie  had  been  struck  with  the  sweet  grave  look 
on  her  face,  as  some  of  those  gifts  were  presented. 
A  gold  filagree  bracelet  from  her  father;  a  white 
opera-cloak  from  her  mother ; — would  these  ever  be 
worn  by  Gracie  ?  Katie  asked  the  question  of  her- 


122  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

self;  and  she  fancied  that  the  same  question  had 
come  to  her  cousin. 

Since  the  first  night  after  the  haemorrhage,  it  hap- 
pened that  Katie  had  never  once,  even  for  a  minute, 
been  left  alone  with  Gracie.  She  could  not  but 
think  that  Kath  carefully  arranged  this.  Either 
Kath,  or  Mrs.  Balfour,  or  the  nurse,  was  always 
there. 

But  for  Grace's  own  evident  wish  to  have  Katie 
with  her,  she  would  probably  have  been  more  seldom 
admitted  to  the  room.  No  second  opportunity  had 
occurred,  however,  for  any  more  such  words  as  Katie 
had  been  able  to  speak  once,  and  only  once.  Did 
Gracie  wish  for  them  ? 

Katie's  own  present  to  Grace  had  been  a  small 
copy  of  the  "  Christian  Year."  She  thought  no  ex- 
ception could  possibly  be  taken  to  this;  and  she 
judged  rightly.  Bessie's  chosen  gift  of  a  volume  of 
"Sermons  for  the  Sick"  had  a  different  reception. 
Mr.  Balfour  "  pshawed ; "  Mrs.  Balfour  shrugged  her 
shoulders;  while  Kath  tossed  the  book  contemp- 
tuously out  of  Grace's  reach.  Bessie  was  evidently 
pained;  and  not  even  Grace's  kind  thanks  could 
drive  the  cloud  from  her  face.  Under  the  circum- 
stances, Bessie  had  not  made  a  wise  selection. 

Mrs.  Carrington  called  that  afternoon,  and  by 
Grace's  own  wish  she  was  admitted. 


THE  BIRTHDAY.  123 

"I'm  not  going  to  tire  you  out,  my  dear,"  she 
said,  stooping  to  kiss  Grace  with  a  tenderness 
which  Katie  hardly  expected  from  her.  "  Just  two 
minutes " 

"To  wish  her  'many  happy  returns,'"  Kath  said 

gaily. 

"  Yes ;  just  so  many  as  God  wills  for  you,  Gracie," 
Mrs.  Carrington  responded;  "and  not  a  single  one 
beyond." 

"/should  like  a  heartier  wish  than  that  on  my 
birthday,"  said  Kath. 

"  Would  you,  Kath  ?  What, — better  than  to  have 
God's  loving  will  for  you  ? " 

Kath  looked  up  defiantly,  and  then  her  eyes  fell. 
"  Well,  we  needn't  get  into  a  discussion,"  she  said. 
"  People  see  things  differently.  Just  look  what 
pretty  presents  Gracie  has  had  to-day." 

"  I  have  brought  my  quota,  though  birthday 
keeping  isn't  much  in  my  line.  I  had  a  fancy  that 
you  would  like  these,  Gracie." 

"  These"  were  several  exquisite  rosebuds,  pink  and 
creamy,  nestling  among  delicate  fronds  of  maiden- 
hair fern.  A  light  handkerchief  thrown  over  the 
bunch  had  concealed  it  hitherto.  Grace's  pleasure 
was  unmistakable.  She  seemed  as  if  she  could 
never  be  weary  of  looking  and  inhaling. 

"  Katie,  will  you  spend  to-morrow  afternoon  at 


124  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

my  house  ?   I  am  expecting  Harold,"  Mrs.  Carringtou 
said,  when  she  rose  to  go. 

Nobody  made  any  objection,  and  Katie  accepted 
the  invitation,  though  conscious  of  a  certain  some- 
thing in  Kath's  face  which  certainly  was  not  pleasure. 

"  That's  a  compliment,"  said  Winnie,  after  Mrs. 
Carrington's  departure.  "Fancy  asking  you  there 
to  meet  Harold  !  Why,  she  generally  seems  to  want 
him  all  to  herself.  I  believe  she  thinks  none  of 
us  good  enough ! "  Winnie  spoke  derisively,  and 
marched  away. 

"  Katie  has  the  sort  of  cant  at  command  which 
suits  Aunt  Chattie,"  said  Kath  in  a  hard  voice. 
No  one  now  was  present,  besides  herself  and  Grace 
and  Katie. 

One  low  "  0  Kath  ! "  escaped  Katie's  lips.  She 
sat  silent  then,  putting  a  strong  restraint  upon  her- 
self. For  this  was  neither  kind  nor  true. 

Grace's  eyes  were  lifted  to  her  sister  in  grave 
reproach.  "  Kath,  dear,  you  don't  really  mean  it," 
she  said.  "  You  know  Katie  never  talks  cant." 

"  She  knows  it  wouldn't  go  down  with  us.  I've 
no  doubt  there  is  any  amount  of  it,  when  she  is 
at  the  '  Nutshell.'  " 

"  Kath !  "  Grace's  tone  was  full  of  pain.  "  How 
can  you  talk  so  ?  Would  you  call  it  cant,  if  /  spoke 
to  you  of  such  things  ?" 


THE  BIRTHDAY.  125 

"  What  things  ?" 

"  Religion,"  Grace  said,  with  an  effort. 

"  It  wouldn't  be  your  way  to  talk  for  the  sake 
of  talk — like  some  people.  Gracie,  we  needn't  go 
on  about  this.  For  my  part,  I  hate  religious  talk, 
and  anything  that  worries  you.  I  want  you  to  look 
bright,  and  not  to  think." 

One  of  Grace's  thin  hands  drew  Kath  down  over 
herself. 

"  But  I  must  think, — and  I  ought  to  speak,"  she 
said  gently.  "  It  has  been  a  bad  attack  this  time ; 
and  suppose  I  had  another." 

"  Well — I  hope  that  wouldn't  be  so  bad  a  one," 
said  Kath  hardily. 

"  And  if  it  were  ?     If  I  did  not  get  through  ?" 

Kath  burst  into  an  indignant  protest. 

"  But,  Kath  dear,  it  would  be  childish  of  me 
to  refuse  to  see  the  truth,"  said  Grace,  in  a  quiet 
tone.  "  I  must  look  it  in  the  face ;  and  I  must  look 
forward." 

"  Katie  has  been  putting  this  into  your  head ! " 

"  No,  not  Katie.  I  could  not  help  knowing  how 
ill  I  was.  I  saw  it  at  the  time  in  your  eyes,  darling. 
You  could  not  hide  what  you  felt.  And  although 
you  all  say  I  am  better,  I  can't  help  knowing  that 
it  may  come  again.  And  I  do  so  want  to  be  able  to 
look  forward  without  fear." 


126  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  If  any  one  can,  you  can, — so  good  as  you  are  ! " 

"  Oh  no  !  If  you  knew  me  really,  you  could  not 
say  that.  If  you  knew  what  it  is  to  stand  on  the 
very  brink,  and  not  to  be  sure — not  to  know — 
0  Kath,  don't  try  to  hinder  me !  I  must  think 
more  and  learn  more.  You  must  help  me, — and 
Katie !  I  want  Katie's  help." 

Kath  raised  herself  hastily,  turned  away,  and  left 
the  room,  shutting  the  door  behind  her. 

"  Is  she  vexed,  or  only  upset  ? "  asked  Grace. 

"I  don't  know.  I  should  think  only  upset," 
said  Katie.  "Gracie,  this  excitement  is  not  good 
for  you." 

"  No,  not  very ;  but  I  could  not  help  it.  Now — 
this  is  our  first  chance.  I  want  to  hear  that  sweet 
hymn  again.  Say  it  to  me,  please,  dear." 

Katie  obeyed  at  once,  though  not  without  a  secret 
dread  of  interruption.  But  no  one  came. 

"  So  will  I  cling  to  Thee, 
So  wilt  Thou  keep,"— 

murmured  Grace  at  the  end.  Then  a  troubled  look 
came  into  her  face.  "  I  have  been  wanting  to  ask 
you  something,"  she  said.  "  I  don't  see  what  I  am 
to  do.  I  want  to  love  Christ,  but  I  can't.  I  can't 
make  myself.  I  have  tried  and  tried,  and  it  is  of 
no  use." 

"  Father  has   often  spoken   about   that  to   me," 


THE  BIRTHDAY.  127 

said  Katie.  "  I  used  to  be  unhappy,  at  one  time, 
because  I  could  not  feel  that  I  loved  as  I 
should;  and  so  I  couldn't  feel  safe.  And  father 
said  I  was  beginning  at  the  wrong  end.  He  said 
we  must  never  expect  to  be  saved  because  of  our 
love  to  Him,  but  only  because  of  His  love  to  us. 
And  he  said  I  could  never  make  myself  love  Christ. 
I  could  only  ask  Him  to  show  Himself  to  me ;  and 
then  love  must  come,  because  nobody  can  ever  know 
Christ  without  loving  Him." 

"  But    I  want   to   feel   safe,  whatever  happens," 
said  Grace. 

"  Yes ;  that  was  what  I  wanted.  I  was  always 
thinking  how  it  would  be,  if  I  fell  ill  and  died 
suddenly.  For,  after  all,  people  in  good  health  are 
not  any  more  certain  of  life  than  people  who  are  ill. 
And  my  father  told  me  I  mustn't  be  too  impatient 
to  feel  safe.  He  said  the  great  thing  was  to  be  safe/' 
"But  how?" 

"  He  said  I  must  just  put  myself  at  the  foot  of 
the  Cross,  and  wait  there.  He  said  that  was  safety ; 
for  nobody  could  ever  be  lost,  waiting  at  the  foot 
of  the  Cross, — even  though  one  might  be  kept  wait- 
ing a  little  while,  without  having  any  feelings  of  joy. 
It  isn't  a  question  of  feeling  happy,  but  just  of 
trusting  all  to  Jesus — just  clinging  to  His  hand,  or 

even  touching  the  hem  of  His  garment.     My  father 

I* 


128  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

said  that  it  wasn't  at  first  a  question  of  our  loving 
Him,  but  only  of  our  believing  that  He  loves  us, 
and  that  He  has  died  for  us.  The  love  grows  later, 
when  one  learns  what  He  really  is  in  Himself." 

"  I  think  I  see,"  Grace  said,  her  face  brightening. 
"  But  isn't  there  anything  to  do  first  ? " 

"  Nothing,  before  coming  to  Him — coming  to  the 
Cross,"  Katie  answered  earnestly.  "  One  must  be 
willing  to  leave  off  what  is  wrong,  and  to  be  taught 
His  will,  and  to  obey  Him  in  everything.  But  the 
first  step  is  just  coming." 

"I  think  I  must  have  come  to  Him  that  night, 
when  you  helped  me,"  Grace  whispered,  flushing. 
"  I  have  not  felt  so  frightened  since.  Katie,  I  do 
think  He  must  be  teaching  me." 

The  door  opened,  and  Kath  came  in  smiling. 
"Look!"  she  cried,  "more  flowers  yet,  you  Queen 
of  the  Day !  Mrs.  Prince  has  sent  this  splendid 
bouquet.  Aunt  Chattie's  buds  will  have  to  hide 
their  diminished  heads." 

"  Oh,  but  there  are  no  flowers  prettier  than  roses," 
said  Katie. 

Kath  gave  her  a  look,  and  vouchsafed  no  reply. 

"And  here  are  letters  for  you  by  post.  Will  you 
read  them  now,  or  are  you  tired  ?  I  don't  like  to 
see  you  so  flushed.  What  have  you  been  talking 
about  ? " 


THE  BIRTHDAY.  129 

"  Will  you  read  my  letters  to  me,  Kath  ?" 

"  Presently;"  and  there  was  so  meaning  a  glance 
in  Katie's  direction,  that  she  stood  up. 

"  Don't  go,  Katie,"  said  Grace. 

"  Perhaps  I  have  been  here  long  enough,"  said 
Katie.  "  Have  I,  Kath  ?" 

No  answer  again.  Katie  would  not  put  the  ques- 
tion a  second  time.  She  bent  over  Grace  for  a  loving 
kiss,  and  left  the  room. 


CHAPTEE  XIV. 

AN    INVITATION. 

)HE  marked  displeasure  shown  in  Kath's 
manner  to  Katie  continued  all  that  even- 
ing. Nor  was  there  any  change  at  break- 
fast next  morning.  If  Katie  addressed  her,  she 
either  made  no  reply,  or  answered  with  cold  curt- 
ness.  Katie  could  hardly  understand  this  treatment 
from  one  who  at  times  seemed  so  warm-hearted; 
and  she  could  not  but  be  much  pained  by  it. 
Yet  her  heart  was  full  of  thankfulness  on  Grace's 
account. 

Kath  had  evidently  spoken  to  her  parents  of 
what  had  passed;  for  Mrs.  Balfour's  air  was  far 
from  pleasant;  and  Mr.  Balfour  seemed  to  be  in 
a  general  state  of  discomfort  as  to  everything  and 
everybody. 

About  an  hour  after  breakfast,  he  accosted  Katie 

in  a  passage,  putting  an  abrupt  question. 

130 


AN  INVITATION.  131 

"  Has  your  aunt  told  you  of  Chattie's  invitation 
— Mrs.  Carrington's,  I  should  say  ? " 

"  No,"  Katie  answered  in  surprise. 

• 

"  Saw  her  last  night, — had  some  business  in  that 
direction,"  said  Mr.  Balfour  rapidly,  as  if  wishing 
to  hurry  through  what  had  to  be  said.  "  She  would 
be  quite  willing — gratified,  I  mean — to  take  you  in 
for  two  or  three  weeks." 

Katie  made  no  response. 

"  You  won't  have  any  dislike  to  the  plan,  I  sup- 
pose ?  I  believe  it  was  understood  from  the  first, — 
as  possible,  I  mean,"  said  Mr.  Balfour. 

"  I  should  like  to  pay  Aunt  Chattie  a  visit  very 
much,  if  she  really  wants  me,"  said  Katie  gravely. 
"  Only  just  now,  with  Gracie  so  ill,  could  I  not  be 
useful  here  ? " 

"  That's  just  it,"  said  Mr.  Balfour,  lowering  his 
voice,  and  glancing  round  suspiciously.  "  My  wife 
and  Kath  think  she  is  better  quiet.  You  see, 
she  is  rather  apt  just  now  to  get  on  depressing 
subjects, — and  perhaps — not  being  very  old  or 
experienced,  you  know — perhaps  you  don't  quite 
know  the  best  way  of  meeting  her  at  such  times. 
Any  kind  of  excitement  is  bad  for  the  poor  dear. 
So,  on  the  whole,  no  doubt  it  will  be  best — I 
mean  your  going  to  Chattie's.  You  won't  think 


132  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

us  unkind,  I  am  sure.  Just  until  Gracie  is  a  little 
stronger." 

"  May  I  not  coine  in  and  see  her  sometimes  ? " 
asked  Katie,  much  more  distressed  than  was  ap- 
parent. 

"  Yes,  yes,  certainly,  as  often  as  you  like.  Only 
make  a  point  of  talking  cheerfully  when  you  do. 
She  mustn't  have  dismal  notions  put  into  her 
head — bad  for  an  invalid,  you  know.  Not  that 
you  meant  to  do  it,  of  course.  But  we  have  to  be 
careful.  You  will  see  Aunt  Chattie  this  afternoon, 
and  you  can  arrange  with  her  about  going.  I 
believe  she  mentioned  to-morrow.  She  is  a  good 
creature,  and  you'll  enjoy  being  there — though  she 
has  some  little  peculiarities." 

Mr.  Balfour  hurried  away,  and  Katie  passed  on 
to  the  drawing-room,  looking  and  feeling  dejected. 

"  Mother  says  you  are  going  to  stay  at  '  The 
Nutshell'  for  a  month,"  was  Winnie's  greeting. 
"  Glad  it  isn't  I." 

"  Hush,  Winnie  !  How  you  meddle  ! "  said  Mrs. 
Balfour.  "  Mrs.  Carrington  sent  an  invitation  to  you 
yesterday  evening,  Kate,  by  my  husband.  She  would 
be  pleased  if  you  could  stay  with  her  for  a  little 
while — two  or  three  weeks,  perhaps.  I  believe  she 
expects  a  visitor  in  a  month,  but  her  spare  room  is 


AN  INVITATION.  133 

free  till  then;  so  it  is  a  good  time.  And  really  it 
would  be  a  kindness  to  poor  Chattie.  Harold  is 
so  seldom  at  home,  that  she  must  be  fearfully  dull. 
She  has  wished  for  some  time  to  propose  this,  but 
has  not  liked  to  do  so  sooner." 

One  possible  answer  after  another  flashed  through 
Katie's  mind,  but  she  only  said,  "Uncle  has  just 
told  me." 

"  Oh — he  has  !  Just  after  asking  me  to  explain ! " 
Mrs.  Balfour  looked  uncomfortable,  perhaps  from  a 
sense  of  possible  discrepancies  in  the  two  reports. 
"  Well,  I  believe  you  will  enjoy  a  month  with  Chattie, 
as  much  as  anything." 

"  I  am  very  fond  of  her,"  said  Katie  gravely. 
"  Aunt  Euth,  may  I  come  and  see  Gracie  every 
day?" 

"  Of  course  you  may  come  as  often  as  you  like," 
said  Mrs.  Balfour.  "That  is  to  say — she  can  see 
you  when  she  is  well  enough.  Grace  has  had  too 
much  talking  lately,  and  we  think  she  ought  to  be 
kept  more  quiet." 

Katie  understood,  and  she  went  to  her  own  room, 
heavy-hearted. 

Mrs.  Carriugton's  version  of  affairs,  that  after- 
noon, was  short  and  simple.  She  held  Katie's  hands, 
smiled  quizzically,  and  said — 


I34  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  So  they  want  to  get  rid  of  you  already,  iny 
dear ! " 

Katie's  lips  were  unsteady.  Mrs.  Carrington  bent 
to  kiss  her  forehead. 

"  Poor  little  woman  !  But  don't  be  distressed  ; 
it  means  nothing.  Some  fancy  of  Kath's  probably. 
Thornton  said  they  wished  to  keep  Grace  more  quiet. 
Generally  the  tide  sets  the  other  way." 

"  I  think  I  know  the  real  reason,"  said  Katie,  in 
a  husky  tone,  when  she  had  removed  her  jacket, 
and  taken  a  seat,  and  Mrs.  Carrington  recurred  to 
the  subject.  "  Should  I  be  wrong  to  tell  you,  Aunt 
Chattie?  Gracie  and  I  have  had  one  or  two  little 
grave  talks.  Kath  came  in  once,  when  I  was  saying 
a  hymn  to  Gracie.  And  yesterday,  Gracie  told  Kath 
plainly  that  she  might  at  any  time  be  worse,  and 
that  she  ought  to  think;  and  she  said  she  wanted 
me  to  help  her." 

"  That  brought  matters  to  a  point,  I  suppose. 
Well,  I  had  my  hopes.  Poor  lamb ! — and  they  want 
to  cut  her  off  from  your  help." 

"  It  wasn't  much.  I  couldn't  do  much,"  Katie 
said  very  low.  "  Aunt  Chattie, — it  will  be  all  right 
with  Gracie." 

"  One  may  not  doubt  it,  my  dear.  The  lost  lamb 
seeking  the  Shepherd,  and  the  Shepherd  seeking  His 


AN  INVITATION.  135 

lost  lamb, — He  will  soon  have  her  in  His  loving 
arms." 

"  If  she  isn't  there  now.  I  think  she  is,"  Katie 
whispered. 

"  And  you  have  been  able  to  bring  her  a  little 
help,  Katie?" 

"  Not  much.     It  was  only  just  a  few  words." 

"  That's  about  as  much  as  most  of  us  are  good 
for.  Better  few  words  than  many,  in  most  cases. 
But,  Katie,  Katie, — you  ought  to  be  singing  a  song 
of  thankfulness,  not  looking  sad  and  down-hearted. 
The  very  angels  in  heaven  rejoice  when  a  wander- 
ing lamb  is  sought  and  found.  I  dare  say  your 
feelings  have  been  a  little  hurt ;  but  what  does 
that  matter  ?  Cheer  up.  You  will  come  here  to- 
morrow, and  we  shall  learn  to  know  one  another 
thoroughly." 

"  Shall  I  not  be  in  the  way  ? " 

"  Not  in  the  least.  I  should  have  asked  you 
sooner,  but  it  seemed  wise  to  wait.  Now  the 
thinf  has  been  taken  out  of  our  hands,  and  I  am 

O  ' 

much  pleased  to  have  you.      I  hope  you  will  have 

no  objection  to  living  in  a  Nutshell." 

"  I  have  been  doing  that  for  some  weeks." 

"  A  walnut- shell !    But  this  is  a  very  much  smaller 

description  of  nut,  my  dear.     However,  life  itself 


136  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

need  not  be  small,  because  one's  surroundings  are 
small;  and  the  mere  fact  of  living  in  a  large  house 
doesn't  make  one's  life  great." 

"  Oh  no  ! "  Katie  said  involuntarily. 

So  bright  an  hour  of  conversation  followed,  that 
Katie  went  back  really  happy  in  the  thought  of 
her  proposed  visit ;  only — there  was  the  remem- 
brance of  Grace.  That  "  only "  weighed  on  her 
heavily.  She  loved  Grace  very  much  ;  and  she  could 
read  sorrow  in  Grace's  wistful  eyes  that  evening. 

No  words  alone  were  permitted  them.  Only 
when  Katie  went  into  Grace's  room  for  a  good-bye 
kiss,  Grace  pressed  her  hand,  and  said,  "  You  must 
come  very  often  and  see  me,  dear." 

"  I  shall  try  to  come  every  day,"  Katie  said. 
"  And  I  shall  always  be  thinking  of  you." 

"  It  will  be  nice  for  Aunt  Chattie  to  have  you," 
said  Grace,  in  a  quiet  tone.  "  One  must  not  be 
selfish." 

"  I  would  much  rather  have  stayed  here,  with 
you,"  escaped  Katie. 

Kath  made  an  impatient  movement. 

"  Would  you  ? "  Grace  asked.  "  Oh  no ;  that  would 
not  be  right.  But  come  often,  Katie.  And  take 
care  of  yourself  there.  It  is  a  draughty  little  house, 
I  am  afraid." 


AN  INVITATION. 


137 


"  Gracie  will  be  tired,"  said  Kath. 

"  Good-bye,  darling,"  Katie  whispered,  and  she 
went  away  with  moist  eyes — not  expecting  that 
daily,  for  a  fortnight  to  follow,  she  would  be  denied 
admittance  to  Grace's  room. 


CHATTER    XV. 

KEPT  APART. 

jJjOILED    again,    Katie?"    asked    Mrs.    Car- 
rington. 

More  than  two  weeks  had  passed  since 
Katie  first  came  to  "  The  Nutshell."  It  had  been 
a  very  happy  fortnight,  peaceful  and  quiet,  but  full 
of  interest.  Mrs.  Carrington  could  be  a  fascinating 
companion  when  she  chose ;  and  with  Katie  she 
did  choose. 

Moreover,  Harold  was  often  in  and  out ;  much 
oftener  than  Katie  had  expected.  She  liked  him 
increasingly ;  and  at  present  she  did  not  in  the 
least  realise  how  very  much  he  liked  her.  Only 
Harold's  own  mother  was  aware  of  his  growing 
attachment.  He  and  Katie  were  on  easy  cousin- 
like  terms,  though  they  were  not  really  cousins. 

The  one  drawback  to  Katie's  enjoyment  was  the 
constant  recollection  of  Grace.  Day  after  day  she 
went  to  "  The  Walnuts ; "  and  day  after  day  she 


KEPT  APART.  139 


vainly  asked  admission  into  the  sick-room.  One 
afternoon  the  invalid  \vas  asleep;  another,  she  was 
fatigued ;  another,  she  had  talked  too  much  already. 
Katie  was  grieved,  dreading  lest  Grace  should  mis- 
understand her  non-appearance.  She  had,  however, 
to  submit  to  Kath's  dictation. 

This  afternoon  her  absence  had  lasted  longer  than 
usual.  Mrs.  Carrington  greeted  her  on  her  return 
with  the  almost  daily  question,  "  Foiled  again  ? " 

"  No ;  I  saw  Gracie  for  a  few  minutes." 

"  How  does  she  seem  ? " 

"  I  thought  her  very  ill ;  but  Kath  calls  her 
better." 

"  Did  Gracie  seem  to  think  herself  better  ? " 

"  I  don't  know.  I  could  hardly  tell,"  Katie 
said  soberly,  yet  with  a  light  in  her  eyes.  "We 
had  not  many  words.  Gracie  seemed  so  weak, 
and  Kath  was  trying  all  the  time  to  hurry  me 
away.  I  don't  think  I  should  have  seen  Gracie 
even  to-day,  only  I  met  Uncle  Thornton  outside, 
and  when  I  said  I  had  not  seen  her  for  a  whole 
fortnight,  he  was  vexed,  and  took  me  straight  into 
her  room.  I  hope  I  have  not  done  harm  by  saying 
that  to  him." 

"  Does  Gracie  understand  why  you  have  not  been 
before  ? " 

"  I  couldn't  ask  her ;   but   I   said   how  sorry  I 


140  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

was  that  she  had  not  been  well  enough  to  see  me 
and   I    think    she    understood,   from    her    manner. 
I  do  think  she  looks  happier, — not  excited,  but  so 
peaceful" 

"  Dear  child  ! " 

"  She  had  the  little  copy  of  the  Christian  Year 
lying  by  her,"  continued  Katie,  speaking  not  quite 
easily — "  the  one  I  gave  her  on  her  birthday.  And 
she  said, — 'I  like  this  so  much,  Katie.  1  wonder 
whether  any  of  my  favourites  are  your  favourites 
too.'  And  then  she  gave  it  to  me  open — I  think 
it  must  have  been  opened  there  on  purpose, — and 
two  lines  were  marked  underneath  with  a  pencil, — 

"  « Lo,  at  Thy  feet  I  fainting  lie,— 

My  eyes  upon  Thy  wounds  are  bent, — ' ' 

Katie's  voice  failed. 

"  Yes,  yes, — I  know,"  said  Mrs.  Carrington.  "  They 
belong  to  Good  Friday.  Yes ;  I  know : — 

"  '  Upon  Thy  streaming  wounds  my  weary  eyes 
Wait,  like  the  parched  earth  on  April  skies.' 

That  is  how  it  goes  on." 

"  There  were  only  the  two  lines  marked." 

"  Enough,  too.     That  is  a  safe  position  to  be  in. 

Did  anything  more  pass  ? " 

"No;  Kath  began  talking  of  other  things,  and 

then  she  said  Gracie  ought  to  be  quiet,  and  I  had 


KEPT  APART.  141 


to  cuuie  away.      I  don't  think  she  or  Aunt  Ruth 
•want  to  have  me  back." 

"  Perhaps  not.  And  I  am  by  no  means  anxious 
to  part  with  you.  But,  my  dear,  I  cannot  feel  that 
I  should  be  right  to  make  your  staying  here  longer 
than  the  month  a  possible  matter.  If  Gracie  needs 
your  help — and  it  is  very  evident  that  she  does  turn 

to  you " 

Katie  looked  up  with  distressed  eyes. 
"But  that  is  just  it,"  she  said.     "What  am  I 
to  do  ?     Aunt  Ruth  and  Kath  will  be  so  vexed, — 
and  yet,  if  Gracie  speaks  to  me  of  such  things,  I 
can't  refuse  to  answer." 

"  I  think  you  would  be  refusing  to  do  your 
Master's  work  if  you  did.  I  know  it  is  a  difficult 
position.  But  you  do  not  stand  alone.  You  will  be 
guided." 

"  Only "  Katie  murmured. 

"  Only,  of  course,  it  is  painful  to  be  where  one 
feels  one  is  not  welcome.  It  hurts  one's  pride. 
Must  you  give  in  to  that?  The  fact  is,  I  have  a 
visitor  coming  in  a  fortnight ;  and  I  have  told  your 
aunt  that  you  must  go  back  to  'The  Walnuts' 
then.  It  would  not  be  convenient  to  me  to 
defer  my  visitor.  She  has  long  looked  forward  to 
spending  this  New  Year  with  me  ;  and  I  know 
that  all  her  arrangements  are  made.  I  don't  say 


142  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

it  would  be  an  absolute  impossibility  to  put  her 
off,  though,  for  her  sake,  T  should  be  very  sorry. 
If  I  felt  it  to  be  right,  I  would  propose  delay; 
but  I  do  not.  I  feel  that  Gracie  needs  you,  and 
ought  to  have  you.  And  I  think  you  ought  to 
be  willing,  for  Gracie's  sake,  to  disregard  feelings 
and  to  go." 

"  Yes,  I  will.  I  will  do  what  you  think  best, — 
and  indeed,  I  should  not  like  you  to  put  off  your 
friend.  But  I  am  so  happy  with  you;  and  it  is 
different  at  '  The  Walnuts.'  " 

"  That  is  a  good  hearing  for  me,"  said  Mrs. 
Carrington,  smiling, — "  so  far  as  your  happiness 
here  is  concerned,  I  mean.  Well, — we  have  an- 
other fortnight  together, — and,  I  hope,  a  happy 
Christmas." 

Katie's  appeal  to  her  uncle  took  effect,  and  she 
was  no  longer  denied  admittance  to  Gracie's  room ; 
though  Kath  shortened  her  visits  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, and  took  care  to  be  always  present. 

Towards  Christmas  came  a  spell  of  inild  weather, 
not  usually  accounted  healthy  in  December,  but  it 
seemed  to  suit  the  invalid  better  than  the  cold  spell 
preceding.  She  rallied  considerably,  and  was  able 
once  more  to  come  downstairs, — even  to  take  her 
place  at  meals  amid  the  family  circle. 


KEPT  APART.  143 


How  far  the  improvement  was  genuine,  or  likely 
to  prove  lasting,  might  well  be  doubted.  But  Kath 
was  in  gay  spirits,  and  everybody  talked  much  of 
Grade  "getting  well  again;" — everybody  except 
Bessie  and  the  inmates  of  "  The  Nutshell." 

Gracie  herself  gave  no  opinion  on  the  subject, 
one  way  or  another.  When  Kath  told  her  merrily 
that  she  was  soon  to  be  "  quite  strong,  and  able  to 
take  a  four-miles'  walk,"  she  only  smiled. 

Katie  found  Kath  so  much  pleasanter  and  more 
lovable,  these  brighter  days,  that  she  began  to 
wonder  how  much  of  past  petulance  and  coldness 
had  not  sprung  from  sheer  depression  and  unhappi- 
ness.  Some  people  do  show  sorrow  through  the 
medium  of  ill-temper. 

To  her  astonishment,  two  days  before  Christmas, 
she  came  upon  Kath  in  the  morning-room  of  "  The 
Walnuts,"  hard  at  work  upon  her  cream-coloured 
muslin.  Grace  was  on  the  sofa,  with  a  book,  and 
Elizabeth  was  busy  at  a  side-table  over  her  never- 
ending  accounts. 

"  Don't  look  so  astonished,"  Kath  said  in  her 
gayest  and  sweetest  manner.  "  I  fished  it  out  from 
one  .of  your  drawers.  You  shouldn't  have  known 
anything  about  it,  till  it  was  done ;  but  I  am  afraid 
a  little  trying  on  is  needful.  Can  you  spare  twenty 
minutes  presently  ? " 


144  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  How  kind  of  you,"  Katie  said  gratefully.  "But, 
Kath,  I  meant  to  make  it  for  myself,  some  time. 
I  didn't  think  there  was  any  hurry.  Can't  I  help 
you  now  ? " 

"  It  will  be  finished  by  the  time  you  come  home. 
The  fact  is,  Mrs.  Prince  has  asked  some  of  us  to  a 
musical  At-Home  one  evening, — the  2nd  of  next 
month, — and  my  father  particularly  wishes  you  to 
go  in  this  dress.  She  crowds  her  rooms,  and  there 
will  be  very  good  music, — glees,  most  likely,  and  a 
first-rate  violinist." 

"  I  wonder  she  thought  of  asking  me." 

"  Oh,  it  seems  she  knew  your  mother  years  and 
years  ago,  when  they  were  both  girls.  My  father 
wants  you  to  make  a  good  impression." 

"  And  are  you  going  ? " 

"  I'm  not  sure.  Two  of  us  are  asked ;  but  it  will 
depend  on  how  Gracie  is." 

"  I  shall  stay  with  Gracie,"  Bessie  said  from  her 
corner. 

"  But  father  particularly  says  you  are  to  go, 
Bessie.  Mrs.  Prince  complained  to  him  the  other 
day  that  she  never  saw  you  now.  And  Winnie  will 
be  at  home ;  so,  if  Gracie  is  pretty  well,  you  and  I 
can  both  be  away,  perhaps." 

"  I  can't  go, — I  don't  think  it  right." 

Bessie  spoke  sharply,  and  Kath's  eyebrows  went  up. 


KEPT  APART.  145 


"  1  shouldn't  have  thought  it  right  to  disobey  my 
father,"  she  said. 

"  I  must  decide  for  myself  in  matters  of  right  and 
wrong.  I  can't  do  what  I  know  to  be  wrong,"  Bessie 
rejoined,  in  the  same  tone  as  before. 

"  Somehow,  modern  martyrs  are  not  so  interest- 
ing as  historical  ones,"  said  Kath,  with  a  light 
laugh. 

"  You  don't  understand  anything  about  it, — of 
course,"  said  Elizabeth,  flushing. 

"  Bessie  need  not  decide  yet.  I  don't  think  we 
shall  do  any  good  by  discussion,"  Grace  interposed ; 
and  the  matter  was  allowed  to  drop. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 
BY    THE    FIRESIDE. 

JHE  Nutshell  drawing-room,  though  small, 
was  pretty  in  shape,  and  gracefully  ar- 
ranged. It  looked  especially  cosy  on 
Christmas  Eve,  with  a  bright  fire  blazing,  and  a 
slender  wreath  of  holly  round  the  mirror  over  the 
mantelpiece,  as  well  as  round  two  or  three  picture- 
frames.  Harold  and  Katie  had  pricked  their  fingers 
in  company  over  that  wreath. 

The  afternoon  proved  dull  and  rainy,  and  curtains 
had  to  be  drawn  sooner  than  usual. 

Harold  found  himself  able  to  come  home  for  a 
whole  week  at  Christmas,  to  his  mother's  no  small 
pleasure.  Katie  certainly  shared  that  pleasure,  and 
the  little  "Nutshell"  was  made  sunny  by  the  addition 
of  his  cheery  face  and  voice. 

It  had  been  a  busy  day — many  Christmas  gifts 
and  remembrances  being  sent  out  by  Mrs.  Carringtou 

to  friends  and  neighbours,  rich  and  poor.     A  good 

146 


BY  THE  FIRESIDE.  147 

many  people  came  to  see  her  also,  dropping  in  irre- 
gularly, some  on  business,  some  only  to  express  kind 
wishes.  Business  now  was  over,  and  calls  seemed 
at  an  end.  Mrs.  Carrington  sat  on  one  side  of  the 
fire,  knitting,  and  often  looking  at  Katie,  who  sat 
on  a  stool  at  the  other  side.  Katie  was  not  doing 
anything.  She  appeared  lost  in  thought;  the  fire- 
light dancing  on  her  brown  head,  one  cheek  leaning 
on  one  hand,  and  a  pair  of  serious  eyes  bent  on  the 
red  coals.  Nobody  else  was  present,  Harold  having 
gone  for  a  walk. 

Mrs.  Carrington  began  to  wonder  whether  a 
long  letter  from  Katie's  father,  received  some  hours 
earlier,  could  have  contained  any  worrying  infor- 
mation. 

"  Katie,  you  are  intensely  grave,"  she  said  at 
length. 

Katie  looked  up  with  a  smile.  "  Am  I  ?  I  was 
only  thinking." 

"  What  about  ?     Christmas  ? " 

"  No,  I'm  afraid  not.  Oh  no — only — I  was  only 
thinking  of — of  Bessie — and  other  things." 

"  I  should  hardly  have  described  Bessie  as  a 
'  thing.'  But  let  that  pass.  What  has  Bessie  been 
doing  ? " 

"  It  isn't  exactly  anything  that  she  has  done. 
I  had  a  talk  with  her  this  morning.  She  told  me 


148  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

one  thing  I  was  very  glad  of.  Mr.  Hamilton  has 
been  twice  to  see  Gracie,  and  he  is  going  again. 
Did  you  know  ? " — for  Mrs.  Carrington  showed  no 
surprise. 

"  Yes ;  but  I  thought  it  best  that  you  should 
hear  it  from  themselves.  Your  aunt  and  Kath 
would  not  have  admitted  him — did  not,  indeed — 
but  Gracie  appealed  to  your  uncle,  saying  she 
wished  to  see  him,  and  he  insisted  that  she  should 
have  her  own  way.  Was  that  what  you  are  so 
grave  about  ? " 

"  Oh  no.  But  Bessie  doesn't  think  I  am  right 
to  go  to  Mrs.  Prince's  musical  evening  on  the  2nd. 
I  told  Bessie  I  felt  sure  my  father  would  not 
wish  me  to  stay  away.  Mrs.  Prince  knew  my 
mother  years  ago,  and  Uncle  Thornton  particularly 
wants  me  to  be  there.  Aunt  Chattie,  you  don't 
think  I  shall  be  wrong  to  go  ? "  asked  Katie,  lifting 
an  anxious  face. 

Mrs.  Carrington  smiled.  "  My  dear  Katie,  you 
are  asking  me  to  decide  for  you  a  question  which 
you  must  of  necessity  decide  for  yourself." 

"  But  would  you  mind  going  if  you  were 
me?" 

'•'If  I  were  Katie  Balfour,  I  should  have  to  view 
the  question  from  Katie's  standpoint.  Being  Chattie 
Carrington,  I  have  to  view  the  question  from  Chattie 


BY  THE  FIRESIDE.  149 

Carrington's  standpoint.  The  answer  need  not  be 
the  same  in  the  two  cases." 

"  Then  I  don't  see  how  one  is  ever  to  know  what 
to  do,"  sighed  Katie. 

"  Here  comes  Harold.     Shall  we  ask  him  ? " 

Katie  assented  shyly,  and  Mrs.  Carrington  entered 
into  an  explanation. 

"  I  was  trying  to  make  Katie  see  that,  in  these 
matters,  we  have  generally  to  decide  for  ourselves," 
she  said  in  conclusion. 

Harold  had  gone  to  a  seat  in  front  of  the  fire, 
whence  he  had  a  good  view  of  Katie's  brown  head. 
Before  responding,  he  took  the  poker  in  hand,  and 
cleared  the  lower  bars  of  ashes. 

"  That's  better.  You  looked  dull  when  I  came  in. 
Well,  Katie,  has  my  mother  made  you  see  it  ?" 

Katie  looked  doubtful.  Harold  glanced  from  her 
to  his  mother,  and  back  again. 

"  One  command  is  clear,  at  all  events,"  he  said. 
"  '  Love  not  the  world.'  The  gist  of  the  whole  matter 
lies  there — in  the  heart's  affections ;  in  the  loving  or 
the  non-loving." 

"  But  what  is  really  and  truly  meant  by  '  the 
world  ? ' "  asked  Katie. 

"  You  might  get  various  answers  to  that  question," 
Harold  said,  smiling.  "  In  an  ordinary  way,  people 
count  '  the  world '  to  mean  all  those  who  are  a  little 


150  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

more  gay  than  themselves — all  those  who  allow  what 
they  themselves  do  not  allow." 

"  Yes,  I  know.  It  is  most  dreadfully  puzzling. 
If  one  could  only  be  quite  sure  what  the  Bible 
exactly  means  by  '  the  world ! ' ' 

"  I  should  say  that  first  there  is  the  simple  and 
every-day  meaning  of  this  actual  world  in  which 
we  live — the  earth  and  the  things  contained  in  it. 
We  are  not  to  love  this  world  as  our  home.  It  is 
not  to  be  first  in  our  hearts.  As  citizens  of  heaven, 
we  are  'strangers  and  pilgrims'  on  earth,  and  the 
things  of  earth  are  to  be  secondary — used  and  en- 
joyed, but  not  loved  with  any  absorbing  affection, 
and  held  at  all  times  loosely." 

"  Yes,  and " 

"  There  is  also  the  meaning  of  '  the  world '  in  the 
sense  of  all  that  is  in  opposition  to  God.  '  Love 
not  the  world,  neither  the  things  that  are  in  the 
world.  If  any  man  love  the  world,  the  love  of 
the  Father  is  not  in  him.  For  all  that  is  in  the 
world  ...  is  not  of  the  Father,  but  is  of  the 
world.'  You  see  the  true  dividing-line.  What- 
ever a  man  thinks,  says,  does,  allows,  is  either  '  of 
the  Father '  or  '  of  the  world.' " 

Katie  said  "  Yes  "  slowly. 

"  In  the  days  when  St.  John  wrote,  the  matter 
was  comparatively  an  easy  one.  A  sharp  dividing- 


BY  THE  FIRESIDE.  151 

line  then  existed  between  the  persecuted  Church 
and  the  fashionable  heathen  world.  But  things  now 
are  much  more  complicated  and  puzzling,  for  the 
Church  glides  into  the  world  by  gradual  stages. 
So  far  as  we  have  power  to  see,  there  is  no  sharp 
visible  line  of  demarcation." 

"  It  is  just  all  that  which  makes  everything  so 
dreadfully  difficult,"  said  Katie.  "  How  is  one  ever 
to  know  what  is  really  right  ? " 

"  First  of  all,  make  up  your  mind  distinctly, 
that  your  decision  is  to  be,  not  merely  your  own, 
but  under  the  leading  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  You  must 
ask  Divine  guidance,  and  wait  for  it.  Secondly, 
make  up  your  mind  no  less  distinctly  that  your 
decision  is  to  be  for  yourself  individually,  not  for 
your  friends  and  acquaintances.  For  yourself  you 
must  decide — for  others  you  need  not.  You  and 
I  have  each  to  draw  a  line' for  ourselves  .between 
things  harmful  and  harmless — guided  Toy  certain 
rules ;  but  we  are  not  called  upon  to  apply  our  rules 
to  all  around." 

Katie  raised  her  face  and  asked,  "  What  rules  ? " 

There  was  a  little  pause,  and  then  Harold  said — 

"  '!F  THY  PIIESENCE  GO  NOT  WITH  us '  "  Another 

break  before  he  added,  "  When  the  answer  can  be, 
'  MY  PRESENCE  SHALL  GO  WITH  THEE,'  one  need  have 
no  more  fear." 


152  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  And  if  one  can't  be  sure  ? " 

"  Then  be  on  the  safe  side  and  abstain." 

"  What  other  rules  ? "  asked  Katie. 

"  There  are  minor  tests  to  be  applied,  such  as — 
what  is  healthy  for  ourselves  ? — what  does  or  does 
not  hinder  spiritual  advance  ?  Also,  we  have  to 
weigh  the  possible  effect  of  our  example  on  other 
people — perhaps  on  weaker  natures,  led  easily  into 
what  might  be  perilous  for  them.  We  need  more 
of  St.  Paul's  loving  self-abnegation,  and  readiness 
to  give  up  what  is  even  harmless,  rather  than  risk 
drawing  another  into  danger.  And  I  think  it 
would  be  better  if  we  were  all  less  eager  to  go 
to  the  extreme  verge  of  what  is  allowable.  The 
safe  side  in  doubtful  matters  is  best.  But  one  must 
always  come  back  to  one  simple  question,  What 
does  God  will  us  to  do  ?  If  we  are  led  by  His 
Spirit,  if  we  follow  steadfastly  in  the  steps  of  Christ, 
we  shall  not  be  allowed  to  yo  far  wrons." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 
SOMETHING   GONE    WRONG. 


I  was  just  looking  for  you,"  said 
Mrs.  Balfour. 

"Yes,  mother."     Bessie  had  on  hat  and 
jacket,  and  carried  a  big  pile  of  small  books. 

"  You  are  not  going  out  ?  " 

"  I  am  going  to  look  up  some  of  my  Sunday 
scholars.  Mr.  Hamilton  told  me  -  " 

"  That  can  wait.  I  want  you  to  sit  with  Grace 
this  afternoon." 

Elizabeth's  low  forehead  wrinkled.  "  But, 
mother  -  " 

"  It  is  the  first  fine  afternoon  we  have  had  for 
nearly  a  week,  and  Kath  must  come  for  a  round 
of  calls  with  me.  It  is  of  no  use  to  look  vexed, 
Bessie.  I  am  getting  terribly  behindhand  in  my 
calls,  and  I  do  not  mean  to  put  them  off  any  longer. 
You  were  out  the  whole  of  this  morning  —  surely 

that  is  enough." 

153 


154  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  I  was  only  at  the  school.     If  I  had  known " 

"It  was  a  pity  you  wasted  your  time,  whether 
you  knew  or  not,"  Mrs.  Balfour  said,  arranging 
her  mantle.  "  At  all  events,  you  cannot  go  this 
afternoon.  Grace  is  not  well  enough  to  be  left 
alone." 

"  Why  can't  Winnie  ? " 

"  Winnie  has  her  classes.  Don't  be  absurd,"  said 
Mrs.  Balfour,  with  a  look  which  showed  whence 
Elizabeth's  frowns  were  inherited — "  German,  and 
drawing  as  well." 

"  Katie  would  come.  I'll  leave  word  on  my 
way." 

"  No,  you  will  not,  I  choose  you  to  stay  at  home 
yourself.  Aunt  Chattie  has  friends  to  afternoon  tea, 
and  she  would  not  like  Kate  to  be  away.  Besides, 
it  is  ridiculous.  Why  are  you  to  be  the  only  one 
never  of  any  use  in  the  house  ?  Now  mind,  I  shall 
start  in  half-an-hour  with  Kath ;  and  you  must  be 
with  Grace  until  we  come  home." 

Mrs.  Balfour  swept  away,  and  Bessie  stood  still, 
vexed  and  unhappy.  It  was  part  of  her  character 
to  dislike  exceedingly  having  plans  upset.  Another 
afternoon  would  no  doubt  do  equally  well  for  visit- 
ing her  Sunday  scholars,  but  Bessie  had  set  her 
heart  on  using  this  particular  afternoon  for  the 
purpose;  and  she  had  no  idea  of  yielding  grace- 


SOMETHING  GONE  WRONG.  155 

fully  to  her  mother's  wishes.  Anybody  could  take 
care  of  Grace,  she  said  to  herself, — and  those 
children  did  need  looking  after.  What  a  shame  it 
was !  "  Mother  always  liked  to  hinder  anything 
good."  Poor  Bessie  did  not  discriminate  at  all  be- 
tween the  doing  of  good  and  the  pleasing  of  self, 
in  such  matters ;  nor  did  she  attempt  to  weigh  the 
comparative  claims  upon  her  leisure  of  the  cottage 
children  and  of  her  own  suffering  sister. 

"  Hallo,  Bessie !  you're  looking  most  awfully 
glum."  So  spoke  Winnie,  dashing  downstairs,  with 
a  big  drawing  portfolio -in  her  arms.  She  stood  still 
to  draw  on  a  pair  of  gloves,  gazing  critically  at 
Elizabeth.  "  What's  gone  wrong  ? " 

"  Mother  wants  me  to  stay  with  Grace." 

"  I  shouldn't  have  thought  that  such  a  tremen- 
dous penance.  I  wish  mother  would  let  me  off  my 
classes,  and  I'd  stay  with  her  gladly  enough,  poor 
dear." 

"  You  !  Yes,  of  course,"  Bessie  said,  with  a  touch 
of  contempt  for  the  said  classes.  "  That  is  different, 
I  have  work  that  ought  to  be  done." 

"  So  have  I,"  responded  Winnie.  "  Why  not  ask 
Katie  to  come  ?  She'd  be  delighted." 

"  Mother  said  I  must  not,"  hovered  on  Bessie's 
lips  ;  but  she  did  uot  utter  the  words.  Sharp  temp- 
tation came  over  her,  and  she  was  taken  unawares. 


156  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  I  don't  see  why  she  shouldn't — only  Aunt  Chattie 
has  somebody  going  to  tea." 

"  Oh,  only  the  two  old  Miss  Finches.  Katie 
won't  care  about  that.  She'd  like  nothing  better 
than  to  come  ;  and  Gracie  would  much  rather  have 
her  than  you,  if  you  are  going  to  be  grumpy  all 
the  time." 

"  Mother  said  I  was  not  to  go  out.  I  wish  you 
would  call  at  '  The  Nutshell,'  Winnie,  and  propose 
Katie's  coming." 

"  I  shall  tell  her  it  will  be  a  charity  to  you  and 
Gracie  too.  You'd  give  anybody  the  dismals." 

Ordinarily,  Bessie  would  have  taken  offence  at 
Winnie's  freedom  of  speech,  but  her  mind  was  set 
now  on  one  aim,  and  she  scarcely  took  in  the  full 
meaning  of  the  words  uttered.  Winnie  hurried  off, 
banging  the  door  behind  her ;  and  Elizabeth  slowly 
removed  hat  and  jacket,  leaving  them  with  her  pile 
of  books  inside  the  dining-room.  She  hoped  to  be 
soon  released. 

Grace  was  in  the  drawing-room,  able  to  come 
downstairs  still,  though  not  so  bright  as  a  few  days 
earlier.  Kath  was  standing  by  her,  dressed  to  go 
out,  when  Bessie  appeared.  "  We  shall  not  be  so 
very  long,  Gracie,"  she  said.  "Everybody  is  sure 
to  be  out  this  fine  afternoon.  Mind  you  take  care 
of  yourself,  darling ;  and  don't  talk  too  much. 


SOMETHING  GONE  WRONG.  157 

Your  cough  is  so  naughty  to-day."  Kath's  fresh 
cheek  was  laid  lovingly  against  Grace's  pale  brow. 
Kath  was  looking  her  prettiest,  in  a  brown  winter 
costume,  with  brown  jacket  and  hat  to  match, 
relieved  only  by  a  little  crimson  neck-tie. 

"  Kath,  somebody  will  want  to  steal  you,"  Grace 
said  playfully. 

"  Kath,  are  you  ready  ? "  Mrs.  Balfour  swept 
imposingly  forward,  with  a  great  deal  of  silk  flounce 
and  rustle.  She  had  too  much  the  air  of  a  "  special 
get-up  "  for  the  occasion. 

Kath  followed  her  mother  from  the  room,  and 
Elizabeth  stood  listlessly  about  near  a  window, 
gazing  out  in  persistent  style.  Gracie  spoke  once 
or  twice,  and  received  answers  so  short,  that  she 
made  no  more  remarks.  A  quarter  of  an  hour  crept 
by  in  silence. 

"  I  can't  imagine  why  Katie  does  not  come," 
Bessie  remarked  then. 

"  Were  you  expecting  her  ?  "  asked  Grace. 

"  Yes,  at  least  I  am  not  sure.  I  thought  she 
might,  if  she  knew  Kath  would  be  out." 

"  I  don't  suppose  she  does  know  it,"  Grace  said, 
somewhat  wistfully.  She,  too,  would  have  been  glad 
to  see  Katie  enter.  Bessie  looked  out  of  the  window 
again,  and  sighed  audibly. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  out,  Bessie  ?"  asked  Grace. 


158  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  It  can't  be  helped." 

"  But  it  can.  I  don't  in  the  least  mind  being 
alone,  if  you  will  just  tell  Ann  to  let  in  no  callers, 
and  to  be  sure  to  come  directly  if  I  ring." 

"  Oh,  no ;  mother  would  be  angry,"  said  Bessie. 

"  I  don't  see  why  she  should.  I  really  do  not 
mind  in  the  least,  Bessie ;  really  I  do  not.  Where 
do  you  want  to  go  ?  " 

"  Oh,  only  to  look  up  my  Sunday  scholars. 
Some  of  them  have  been  so  irregular  lately,  and 
Mr.  Hamilton  wants  me  to  call  on  them  all  at  their 
homes.  And  I  don't  see  how  I  am  to  do  it  this 
week  if  not  to-day.  To-morrow  and  next  day  are 
quite  full." 

"  I  suppose  children  are  apt  to  be  irregular  at 
Christmas  time,"  said  Grace. 

"  Yes ;  only  we  can't  pass  it  over.  If  mother 
had  told  me  at  breakfast  time  that  she  wanted  me 
to  stay  in  this  afternoon,  I  might  have  seen  some 
of  them  this  morning.  But  she  never  tells  one  till 
the  last  moment." 

"  I  think  you  had  better  go  now,"  said  Grace. 

"  I  don't  suppose  I  must,"  said  Bessie  reluctantly. 
"  But  if  you  don't  mind  being  a  few  minutes  alone, 
I  could  just  go  into  the  front  room  and  watch  for 
Katie.  I  sent  a  message  by  Winnie,  so  she  is 
almost  sure  to  come.  One  can't  see  down  the 


SOMETHING  GONE  WRONG.  159 

road  here.  You  could  ring  the  bell  for  me  any 
moment." 

"  Yes,  certainly,"  Grace  said,  with  kind  cheerful- 
ness. "Don't  hurry  back.  I  am  so  sorry  to  be  a 
clog  on  you." 

Bessie  vanished,  and  Grace  lay  quietly,  feeling,  it 
must  be  confessed,  a  little  lonely  and  sad.  The  sense 
of  being  a  hindrance  is  always  trying. 

"  A  few  minutes "  may  mean  little  or  much. 
They  grew  to  the  number  of  twenty,  then  thirty. 
Grace  knew  that  she  ought  to  take  her  medicine, 
and  she  touched  the  hand-bell  gently,  but  no  response 
came.  A  cord  fastened  to  the  downstairs  bell-handle 
should  have  been  placed  within  her  reach,  and  had 
not  been.  Grace  was  scarcely  up  to  the  exertion 
of  rising  without  a  helping  hand,  this  being  one  of 
her  weak  days.  She  closed  her  eyes  and  waited 
patiently. 

Suddenly  the  door  burst  open,  and  a  maid  rushed  in. 
"  Miss  Bessie !  Miss  Bessie  !  Oh  !  "  and  she  stopped 
short,  seeing  only  Grace.  "  I  thought  Miss  Bessie 
was  here." 

"  Is  anything  wrong  ?  "  asked  Grace,  startled  into 
rapid  heart-beating. 

"  I'm  afraid — at  least — if  I  could  see  Miss  Bessie," 
stammered  the  girl. 

Grace  raised   herself  to  a  sitting   position,  and 


160  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

spoke  resolutely.     "  Tell  me  at  once  what  has  hap- 
pened." 

"  I  don't  know  exactly,  miss,"  the  girl  faltered ; 
"  only  it's  something  gone  wrong  with  the  carriage, 
and  Miss  Kath's  got  hurt." 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


A  CRASH. 


ie  —  late  again  for  her  drawing," 
rs-  Balfour,  as  the  pony-carriage  went 
swiftly  down  the  valley. 

"  It  is  not  three  o'clock  yet.  She  will  be  almost 
in  time,"  said  Kath  easily. 

"  Not  if  -  What  is  she  going  into  '  The  Nut- 
shell '  for  ?  I  shall  stop  that." 

A  word  to  the  young  coachman,  and  the  pony- 
carriage  drew  sharply  up,  outside  the  gute,  just  as 
Winnie  reached  the  door  of  Mrs.  Carringtou's  small 
house.  "  Winnie  !  "  In  her  mother's  voice  sounded 
a  recall. 

"  Yes,  mother." 

"  What  are  you  wasting  time  here  for  ?  Your 
class  begins  at  three." 

"  Bessie  wanted  me  to  ask  -  " 

"  Come  here.  I  can't  speak  so  loud.  Well,  — 
Bessie  wanted  what  ?  " 

161 


162  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  She  thought  Katie  wouldn't  mind  going  to  take 
care  of  Gracie  while  you  are  out.  Bessie  wants  to 
go  somewhere." 

"  Of  course,"  Mrs.  Balfour  said  shortly.  "  Bessie 
generally  does  want  to  go  somewhere.  Anything 
rather  than  sit  down  and  be  useful  at  home. 
I  suppose  she  didn't  think  it  worth  her  while  to 
inform  you  that  I  had  desired  her  to  stay  indoors, 
and  that  I  had  said  Katie  was  not  to  take  her 
place." 

Winnie's  eyes  opened  considerably.    "  No,  mother." 

"That  is  the  state  of  the  case.  Now  you  may  go 
straight  to  your  class." 

Winnie  hurried  off  without  another  word ;  and  at 
the  same  instant  Mrs.  Carrington  appeared  in  the 
doorway,  a  light  shawl  over  her  head  and  shoulders. 

"  Coming  in,  Kuth  ? " 

"No,  I  have  not  time.  We  stopped  for  a  word 
with  Winnie." 

"  I  saw  Winnie." 

"  She  is  late  for  her  drawing  already,  so  I  told  her 
not  to  delay.  Girls  like  any  excuse  for  loitering," 
said  Mrs.  Balfour.  "Kath  and  I  have  a  round  of 
calls  to  pay." 

"  How  is  Grace  ? " 

"  Much  the  same  as  usual." 

"  Not  wanting  Katie,  in  Kath's  absence  ? " 


A  CRASH.  163 

"  No,  thanks." 

"  Because,  if  she  did,  Katie  will  be  in  soon,  and  I 
could  send  her." 

"  No,  thanks,"  repeated  Mrs.  Balfour,  and  the  car- 
riage went  on.  "  That  is  a  good  thing,"  Mrs.  Balfour 
said.  "  We  were  only  just  in  time.  Katie  alone  with 
Grace  all  the  afternoon  is  just  what  I  don't  wish." 

"  Katie  conies  home  in  three  days,  mother." 

"  Well,  we  shall  have  to  keep  a  sharp  look-out. 
Chattie  might  just  as  well  have  put  off  her  other 
visitor  for  a  few  weeks  ;  but  she  won't,  so  there's  an 
end  of  it.  There  never  was  anybody  more  obstinate 
than  Chattie  can  be  on  occasions." 

"  I  suppose  she  is  as  anxious  for  Katie  to  be  with 
Gracie  as  we  are  for  her  not  to  be,"  said  Kath. 

"  Very  likely.  I  wish  your  father  had  not  been 
so  absurdly  yielding  about  those  visits  of  Mr. 
Hamilton.  He  has  been  twice  in  the  course  of  the 
last  week,  as  if  once  a  week  would  not  have  been 
enough — and  too  much  !  " 

Kath  was  silent  for  a  second  or  two.  "  Mother, 
I  don't  think  really  that  Gracie  has  been  the  more 
depressed  for  seeing  him,"  she  said.  "He  has  a 
cheerful  manner,  and  doesn't  go  on  too  long.  I 
would  rather  not  have  had  him  in  and  out  so  often ; 
but  still,  if  Gracie  wishes  it  so  much " 

"  That  does  not  make  a  thing  good  for  her,"  said 


164  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

Mrs.  Balfour.  "  I  believe  she  is  perpetually  think- 
ing now  about  dying.  Nothing  could  be  worse  for  a 
person  in  her  state." 

Kath  made  no  answer  to  this — perhaps  could  not. 
A  close  watcher  might  have  seen  her  clasp  her 
hands  tightly,  half  under  the  fur  rug ;  and  her  lips 
worked. 

"As  for  Bessie,  I  shall  have  to  complain  to  your 
father.  She  thinks  nothing  of  going  against  rny 
wishes.  As  if  I  had  not  spoken  plainly  enough  !  I 
should  have  thought Oh  !  " 

A  scream  broke  from  Mrs.  Balfour.  The  little 
carriage  had  rounded  a  sharp  curve,  driving  rapidly. 
Just  beyond  the  curve,  a  large  cart  with  two  horses 
was  advancing  towards  them  at  a  quick  pace,  the 
heavy-faced  countryman  who  held  the  reins  keeping 
very  much  to  the  wrong  side  of  the  road.  His  wrong 
side  was  of  course  the  right  side  to  a  vehicle  coming 
the  other  way;  and  in  an  instant  cart  and  carriage 
were  vis-d-vis. 

A  collision  might  perhaps  have  been  avoided  had 
the  driver  of  the  cart  been  a  less  stolid  individual, 
or  had  Mrs.  Bal four's  young  driver  been  a  more  expe- 
rienced "  whip."  As  it  was,  the  former  did  nothing 
but  stare,  and  the  latter  lost  his  head.  One  strong 
pull  to  the  right,  and  the  accident  might  have  been 
averted,  though  but  by  a  hair's-breadth.  No  such 


A  CRASH.  165 

pull  was  even  attempted.  There  was  a  momentary 
shriek  from  Mrs.  Balfour — a  momentary  start  from 
Kath — and  the  crash  came. 

Crowds  always  collect  like  magic  on  such  occa- 
sions. When  the  pony  carriage  appeared  round  the 
curve,  not  half-a-dozen  people  were  in  sight.  Ten 
minutes  later,  when  Katie,  who  had  been  execut- 
ing some  little  errand  for  Mrs.  Carrington  since 
luncheon,  happened  to  draw  near,  a  dense  mass  of 
lookers-on  surrounded  the  scene  of  the  disaster. 

Katie's  first  impulse  was  to  avoid  a  crush  by 
going  round  another  way.  Then  she  hesitated,  and 
asked  of  a  woman,  "  Has  anything  happened  to 
anybody  ? " 

"  There's  been  a  haccident,  miss — a  carriage  and 
cart  run  into  each  other,"  was  the  answer,  "  and 
two  ladies  half  killed." 

"How  dreadful!"  Katie  said  involuntarily.  "Are 
they  in  the  crowd  ? " 

The  woman  nodded  assent.  "  I  haven't  got  a 
sight  of  'em  yet,"  she  said,  "  but  I  mean  to,  afore  I 
go.  It's  Mr.  Bal four's  carriage — a  gentleman  living 
up  on  the  hill — all  a  smash,  and  the  pony  killed." 

For  one  moment  Katie  felt  sick  with  the  shock. 
Then  she  rallied,  and  pressed  steadily  into  the 
densest  of  the  throng.  "  Let  me  pass,  please  !  You 
must,  please,  let  me  pass  !"  she  reiterated  again  and 


r 66  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

again,  sometimes  adding,  "They  are  my  aunt  and 
cousin ;  please  let  me  go  on." 

The  people  yielded,  even  helping  her  forward. 
She  reached  at  length  the  central  space,  round 
which  stood  a  gazing  circle.  In  that  space  lay  the 
pony-carriage,  a  mere  heaped-up  wreck;  and  the 
pony  on  his  side,  motionless.  The  young  coach- 
man was  attending  to  the  pony,  moving  himself 
with  a  decided  limp,  and  assisted  by  one  or  two 
other  men. 

Mrs.  Balfour,  seated  on  a  low  grass  bank  at  one 
side  of  the  road,  was  talking  fast  and  crying  in 
hysterical  fashion ;  and  Kath,  white  as  a  sheet, 
lay,  half  on  the  ground,  half  against  a  kind-faced 
woman,  who  was  trying  to  force  some  water  between 
her  teeth. 

"  Aunt  Euth  ! "  Katie  said  tremblingly,  coming 
close, — "Oh,  Aunt  Euth,  are  you  and  Kath  much 
hurt?" 

Katie  was  rather  astonished  to  find  her  hand 
clutched,  and  her  appearance  hailed  with  evident 
relief.  "  Hurt  ?  I  should  think  so,"  sobbed  Mrs. 
Balfour.  "  Oh  dear !  I'm  so  glad  somebody  has 
come  at  last.  Why  isn't  your  uncle  here  ?  He 
must  know  by  this  time.  Such  a  frightful  accident ! 
I  shall  never  get  over  it.  My  leg  is  frightfully  crushed 
— I  believe  it  is  broken,  but  nobody  will  listen  to 


'  Kath,  as  white  as  a  sheet,  lay  on  the  ground."—  Page  166. 


A  CRASH.  169 

me.  The  cart  wheels  must  have  gone  over  it. 
And  Kath  looks  stunned.  I  don't  know  what  we 
are  to  do.  I  can't  think  why  something  isn't  done. 
And  the  pony  killed  !  If  only  we  could  get  home ! 
— or  even  to  '  The  Nutshell.'  If  only  that  horrible 
crowd  would  stop  staring  at  us.  Kate,  can't  you 
do  something  ?  Can't  you  send  the  people  away  ? 
Oh  dear — dear — dear — my  poor  leg  !  I  don't  know 
how  to  bear  it."  Mrs.  Balfour  burst  anew  into 
violent  sobbing,  and  a  man  standing  by  said  respect- 
fully to  Katie,  "  A  cab  '11  be  here  directly,  miss." 

"Where  is  the  cart  that  did  the  harm?"  asked 
Katie,  hardly  knowing  what  she  said. 

"  It's  gone  on,  miss, — not  much  the  worse,  except 
that  the  horses  were  a  good  bit  cut  and  scared. 
The  carriage  came  off  worst,  being  so  small, — and 
one  of  the  shafts  took  the  pony  right  in  the  chest. 
I'm  afeared  he's  past  doing  anything  for  him. 
Farmer  Hodges  '11  have  heavy  damages  to  pay." 

"  Did  the  wheels  go  over  Mrs.  Balfour  ? "  asked 
Katie,  in  a  low  voice. 

The  man  shook  his  head.  He  had  not  been  on 
the  spot  till  after  the  collision,  but  he  didn't  see 
how  they  could  have  done  so,  judging  from  the  posi- 
tion in  which  the  lady  was  found.  Mrs.  Balfour 
had  been  tossed  clean  out  with  the  shock,  while 
the  younger  lady  had  had  to  be  extricated  from 


1 70  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

the  ruins  of  the  pony-carriage.  "It's  a  wonder 
she  wasn't  killed  outright  on  the  spot/'  he  said 
significantly.  "  I  doubt  but  she's  much  the  worst 
of  the  two." 

Katie  moved  a  few  paces,  and  hung  over  Kath, 
uttering  her  name.  Kath's  eyes  opened,  and  looked 
at  her. 

"  Kath,  are  you  in  pain  ? " 

The  "  Yes "  was  faint.  Then  there  came  a  low, 
"  Don't  tell  Gracie  ! " 

"  No,"  Katie  answered ;  and  then  a  wonder  shot 
across  her  mind, — would  the  news  be  kept  from 
Grace?  Only  Bessie  was  at  home;  and  Bessie  had 
no  presence  of  mind. 

A  cab  drove  furiously  up  at  this  moment,  dividing 
the  crowd;  and  Mr.  Balfour  sprang  out,  in -a  state 
of  great  excitement.  He  wanted  to  hear  all  about 
everything,  and  yet  seemed  capable  of  listening  to 
nobody.  Mrs.  Balfour  sobbed,  and  Mr.  Balfour 
talked,  and  Kath  lay  again  with  shut  eyes  and 
white  lips,  till  Katie  put  firm  fingers  on  her  uncle's 
arm,  and  drew  his  attention  to  Kath's  state.  "  Could 
they  not  go  home  at  once,  and  leave  everything  else 
till  afterwards  ? " 

Mr.  Balfour  submitted  to  the  hint,  and  the  ladies 
were  helped  in,  Mrs.  Balfour  calling  out  at  every 
movement.  Kath  made  no  sound.  She  only  grew 


A  CRASH.  171 

whiter  with  each  touch.  Once  inside  the  cab,  she 
said  imploringly  to  Katie, — "Please  conie  too!" — 
and  Katie  obeyed  at  once.  Kath's  one  other  re- 
mark through  the  drive  was  a  whispered — "  I  must 
walk  into  the  house, — not  to  startle  Grade." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

AT  "THE   WALNUTS"  AGAIN. 

i  ESSIE  had  not  meant  to  remain  so  long 
away  from  Grace;  but  it  was  a  habit  of 
hers  to  become  very  much  absorbed  in 
any  present  occupation,  and  to  lose  sight  of  the 
flight  of  time.  She  ought  to  have  been  well  aware  of 
this  tendency,  and  to  have  kept  guard  over  herself. 
Bessie,  however,  was  not  great  in  self-knowledge. 

Having  watched  for  ten  or  fifteen  minutes  at  the 
front  window  in  vain,  she  began  to  fear  that  Katie 
was  unable  to  come.  It  occurred  to  her  that  if  she 
were  to  spend  a  little  while  over  certain  Clothing 
Club  accounts,  which  were  falling  into  arrears,  the 
afternoon  would  not  be  quite  "  thrown  away."  It 
did  not  occur  to  her  that  the  afternoon  would  be 
still  less  thrown  away,  if  spent  beside  Grace's  couch. 
Bessie  no  sooner  thought  of  this,  than  she  acted 
upon  it.  Before  five  minutes  had  passed,  everything 

else  was  forgotten  in  the  mysteries  of  columns  which 

172 


AT  "THE   WALNUTS"  AGAIN.  173 

would  not  "  add  up  right."  Half-au-liour  went 
swiftly,  a,  she  added  and  re-added,  calculated  and 
re-calculated,  rounding  her  shoulders  and  knitting 
her  brows,  with  not  a  thought  of  the  invalid  in  the 
drawing-room. 

"  Miss  Bessie  !  Miss  Bessie ! "  outside  the  door  did 
not  reach  her  hearing.  Had  it  done  so,  and  had  she 
responded  promptly,  Grace  would  have  been  spared 
a  sharp  shock.  The  speaker  passed  on,  and  Bessie 
still  sat  over  her  accounts,  unconscious  of  neglected 
duty. 

"Miss  Bessie!  Miss  Bessie!"  The  summons 
sounded  again,  hurried  and  alarmed,  and  in  another 
voice.  Bassie  began  to  be  vaguely  aware  that 
somebody  wanted  her,  and  she  looked  up  slowly. 

"  Seventy-two  and  six,  seventy-eight ;  and  four, 
eighty-two ;  and  three,  eighty-five  ;  eighty-five  pence 
are  seven  shillings  and " 

o 

"Miss  Bessie,  you're  wanted,  quick,"  Ann  said, 
bursting  into  the  room  flurried  and  breathless.  "  Come 
to  Miss  Balfour,  please,  Miss." 

Bessie  stood  up  with  rather  a  startled  air.  "  Grace ! 
Isn't  she  so  well  ?  " 

"  There's  been  an  accident,  Miss,  and  Miss  Kath's 
hurt,  they  say;  and  that  goose  of  a  Jane  couldn't  find 
you,  and  went  and  told  Miss  Balfour  straight  out ; 
and  she  do  look  bad." 


174  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

Bessie  hurried  into  the  drawing-room  hardly 
understanding,  yet  dismayed.  Grace  was  sitting  up 
on  her  couch,  with  widely-opened  blue  eyes,  and 
breathing  in  struggling  gasps.  Bessie  looked  help- 
lessly at  Ann,  and  Ann  caught  up  a  bottle  of  salts, 
bringing  it  to  Grace  ;  but  it  was  put  aside. 

"No,  no,— Kath— Kath,"  panted  Grace.  "Ob, 
tell  me ! " 

"  I  don't  know  much  indeed,  Miss,"  said  Ann, 
frightened  at  Grace's  face.  "  I  shouldn't  wonder  if 

o 

it  isn't  much  after  all.  Them  stories  always  do  grow 
so.  Only  the  carriage  ran  into  a  cart,  and  the  pony's 
killed,  and  Missus  and  Miss  Kath's  thrown  out.  But 
we'll  hear  more  soon.  Master's  gone  off  to  see  about 
it  all;  and  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  it  was  just  to 
turn  out  to  be  nothing— I  shouldn't,  really.  Couldn't 
you  lie  down  and  keep  still,  Miss,  and  maybe  you'll 
feel  better  ?  " 

"  Yes,  do,  Gracie,"  added  her  sister.  "  I  don't 
believe  it  means  anything,  after  all.  So  stupid  of 
Jane  to  come  and  frighten  you  like  this.  And  I  was 
close  at  hand." 

"  She  says  she  couldn't  find  you  anywhere,  Miss 
Bessie,"  rather  resentfully  observed  Ann,  indignant 
for  Grace,  who  was  a  universal  favourite.  "  Couldn't 
you  lie  down,  Miss  Balfour  ? " 

"  I  can't — just — yet,"  Grace  said  gently,  trying  to 


AT  "THE   WALNUTS"  AGAIN.  175 

smile,  as  the  hard  gasps  for  breath  went  on.  "  When 
this — is  better.  Please — find  out  more." 

Ann  went  at  once,  and  Bessie  stood  by  her  sister's 
side,  feeling  very  helpless,  not  at  all  realising  how 
serious  a  matter  was  such  a  shock  for  one  in  Grace's 
state,  but  aware  that  she  would  herself  be  blamed, 
and  therefore  sufficiently  uncomfortable. 

"  I  suppose  I  must  have  been  longer  in  the  next 
room  than  I  meant  to  be,"  she  said.  '  "  I  really  didn't 
think  time  had  gone  so  fast.  I  was  just  doing  one 
or  two  accounts." 

"  I  can't  talk.  Kath  ! "  was  the  only  answer.  "  If 
I  could  know " 

"  I  don't  believe  it  is  anything.  As  Ann  says,  an 
accident  is  always  exaggerated.  Most  likely  the 
pony  is  bruised,  and  nobody  else  hurt." 

"Please,  hush, — I  want  to  listen,"  entreated 
Grace. 

Bessie  obeyed,  feeling  slightly  injured;  and  no 
further  sound  broke  the  stillness,  except  Grace's 
quick  panting.  The  palpitation  had  become  a  little 
less  violent,  and  she  was  able  presently  to  lean  back 
on  her  pillows,  with  eyes  and  ears  intent.  Ann  did 
not  return,  and  Bessie  sat  silently  beside  the  couch. 
Minutes  followed  minutes  in  slow  succession,  till  the 
front  door  could  be  heard  to  open. 

"  Bessie,  go  !  "  Grace  whispered. 

M 


1 76  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  I  don't  think  I  ought  to  leave  you." 

"  Yes,  please, — go  quickly.     I  can't  wait." 

Bessie  hesitated,  then  stood  up,  and  moved  towards 
the  door,  wondering  whether  it  would  be  right  to 
obey.  But  the  door  opened  from  outside,  and  Katie 
came  in. 

"  Gracie " 

"  Oh,  Katie,  tell  me  aU ! " 

Katie  was  terrified  at  Grace's  changed  look,  but 
she  did  not  show  what  she  felt.  She  spoke  quietly, 
holding  Grace's  hand — 

"  Darling,  you  mustn't  be  so  frightened.  The  car- 
riage ran  into  a  cart,  and  was  broken  up.  Aunt 
Euth's  leg  is  very  much  bruised,  I  think,  but  that 
seems  all;  and  Kath  was  faint  at  first.  Yes,  she  is 
hurt  a  little,  I  think,  and  we  want  her  to  lie  down 
in  the  spare  room  and  keep  quiet  till  Mr.  "Willoughby 
comes ;  but  she  says  she  must  come  in  for  a  moment 
to  give  you  a  kiss." 

"Don't  let  her.     I'll  go  to  Kath,"  said  Grace. 

"  Oh,  no, — I  am  sure  she  would  not  like  that." 

The  door  opened  again,  and  Kath  entered  slowly, 
yet  with  a  smile  on  her  white  lips. 

"Kath!  0  Kath,  you  are  not  fit  for  it,"  gasped 
poor  Grace.  "  How  could  they  let  you  !  " 

"  Gracie  ! "  The  one  startled  sound  broke  from 
Kath,  as  her  eyes  fell  on  her  sister,  and  then  again 


AT  "THE   WALNUTS"  AGAIX.  177 

she  looked  resolutely  bright.  "Of  course  I  have 
come.  I  ani  not  to  be  so  easily  kept  away." 

"  And  you  are  not  hurt,  Kath, — not  really  hurt  ?  " 
entreated  Grace. 

"  Nothing  much,"  replied  Kath  cheerfully.  "  They 
say  I  am  to  keep  quiet  for  a  few  hours ;  and  Katie 
will  take  my  place  with  you  meantime.  I  am  going 
to  lie  down  on  the  spare-room  sofa.  You  won't  be 
worried,  now  you  have  seen  me." 

"  If  only  you  didn't  look  so  pale." 

Kath  gave  a  little  laugh.     "  One  can't  go  through 

o  o  o  o 

a  break-down  like  that,  and  not  be  the  least  bruised 
and  shaken.  It  wouldn't  be  reasonable.  Where  am 
I  hurt  ?  Oh,  I  fancy  I  am  a  degree  black  and  blue 
here  and  there, — not  at  all  wonderful  if  it  is  so!  Now, 
dearie,  I  am  going  to  obey  orders,  and  have  a  rest, — 
just  for  an  hour  or  two.  Katie  will  come  back  to  you 
directly."  She  bent  to  kiss  Grace,  twice,  thrice  ;  .and 
then  walked  away,  slow  in  movement  still.  Grace 
made  no  effort  to  detain  her.  At  the  door  Kath 
glanced  back,  smiling,  "  Good-bye,  Grace." 

Grace's  answering  look  was  strangely  sweet.  The 
distressed  excitement  had  vanished  since  Kath's 
appearance.  "Good-bye,"  Kath  repeated,  gazing 
wistfully. 

"Good-bye,  sweet  Kath,"  Grace  answered. 

Katie  followed   her   cousin   from  the  room ;  and 


1 78  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

outside  the  door  Kath  turned  to  her  a  face  of 
anguish.  "  Kath,  dear,  you  are  in  pain.  Take  my 
arm." 

"  Yes.     It  isn't  only  that !  " 

No  other  word  passed  Kath's  lips,  till  she  had 
reached  the  spare-room  sofa;  and  then  she  broke 
into  one  passionate  moan,  "  It  will  kill  her  ! " 

"  No,"  Katie  began,  only  to  be  interrupted. 

"  It  will  kill  her !  Could  you  not  see  ?  Mr. 
"Willoughby  has  so  dreaded  any  shock,  and  this — 
this — she  was  told  so  suddenly — no  warning.  Ann 
says  so.  Bessie  away,  and  she  alone !  So  mad  of 
me  ever  to  leave  her." 

"If  I  had  but  known,  I  would  have  come  to 
Gracie,"  Katie  said  sorrowfully,  unknowing  how  the 
words  added  to  her  cousin's  self-reproach. 

"  Don't  mind  me ;  never  mind  about  me,"  urged 
Kath.  "  Go  back  to  Gracie,  and  don't  leave  her. 
Don't  trust  to  Bessie.  Nobody  else  knows  how  to 
do  anything.  And  you  do  love  Gracie ;  I  know  you 
do.  Never  mind  about  me.  I  shall  be  better  by- 
and-by.  If  only  it  didn't  turn  me  so  queer  all  over, 
I  could  stay  with  Gracie,  and  I  should  mind  nothing 
then.  I'll  just  lie  here  till  Mr.  Willoughby  comes. 
Oh,  go  to  Gracie,  and  don't  let  her  be  worried,  or 
think  me  ill." 

Katie  did   as  she  was   desired,  and   within   five 


AT  "THE  WALNUTS"  AGAIN,  179 

minutes  Mr.  Willoughby  arrived.  He  spent  a  con- 
siderable time  with  Katli,  and  bestowed  shorter 
attention  upon  Mrs.  Balfour ;  after  which  he  came 
to  Grace ;  and  Katie  knew  in  a  moment  that  he 
thought  ill  of  her. 

"  You  are  not  to  make  yourself  unhappy,  by 
fancying  things  worse  than  they  are,"  he  said 
seriously  to  Grace,  after  asking  a  few  questions. 
"  Your  cousin  will  look  after  you  to-night  in  Kath's 
place.  No,  I  can't  let  Kath  do  anything  to-night. 
She  must  keep  from  any  exertion  for  two  or  three 
days.  I  don't  think  she  is  so  much  hurt  as  one 
might  have  expected,  but  the  bruises  are  severe ; 
and  there  seems  to  be  something  of  a  strain.  I  have 
ordered  her  to  lie  still.  Winnie  and  one  of  the 
maids  will  help  her  to  bed  presently.  Bessie  is  busy 
with  Mrs.  Balfour, — nothing  wrong  there,  except  a 
rather  painful  leg.  Now,  Miss  Balfour,  I  should 
like  to  give  you  one  or  two  directions." 

"  Kate  is  a  beautiful  nurse,"  Grace  said,  as  he 
offered  her  his  hand.  She  seemed  reassured,  and 
smiled  into  his  face.  Mr.  Willoughby  was  an  old 
family  friend,  and  had  known  the  girls  from  child- 
hood. 

"  That  is  right.  Of  course  you  don't  mean  to  lie 
awake,  or  to  keep  her  awake ;  but  still,  I  am  going 
to  "ive  her  a  little  hint  or  two  beforehand.  When 


LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 


she  comes  back  you  are  to  be  wheeled  iuto  your 
room,  and  to  go  to  bed,  as  quietly  as  possible." 
Outside  the  door  he  turned  to  Katie,  and  said  in 
a  significant  low  tone,  "  She  is  worse." 

"Much  worse?"  Katie  asked  anxiously,  as  they 
neared  the  hall  door. 

"  Yes.  Nothing  was  more  to  be  feared  for  her 
than  such  a  shock.  The  effects  may  pass  off; 
I  cannot  tell  yet.  I  shall  be  here  again  to-morrow 
early;  meantime,  if  there  should  be  any  cliange, 
send  for  me  at  once  —  no  matter  what  hour." 


CHAPTER  XX. 
PASSING    A  WA  Y. 

I  think  I  must  be  stronger  than 
was — J113*1  a  ^ktle  stronger,"  said  Grace. 
She  spoke  wistfully,  lying  in  bed,  with 
Katie  by  her  side. 

"  Do  you,  darling  ? " 

"  I  don't  want  to  make  too  much  of  it ;  but 
I  don't  think  I  could  have  borne  bein:  startled 
quite  so  well  a  few  weeks  back.  I  mean  I  should 
most  likely  have  been  the  worse  for  it  afterwards." 

"  I  think  we  shall  have  to  take  extra  care  of  you 
now,  for  a  day  or  two." 

"  Perhaps.  I  don't  mind  that.  But  it  would  be 
nice  to  feel  that  I  was  getting  on  a  little,  perhaps. 
It  isn't  wrong  to  wish  to  get  well,  is  it,  Katie  ? " 

"  No,"  Katie  answered  at  once.  "  Im  a  sure  it 
is  not  wrong,  darling.  Only  I  suppose  we  ought 
to  be  willing  to  go  when  Jesus  calls." 

"  Yes, — willing.      I  think   I  am  willing,"   Grace 


1 82  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

said  calmly.  "I  don't  feel  afraid  now,  as  I  did. 
He  docs  love  me." 

Katie  could  only  whisper  "  I  am  so  glad." 

"  I  have  wanted  to  tell  you — often.  Everything 
is  so  different  now.  Kath  will  never  let  me  speak  of 
Him — poor  sweet  Kath.  She  can't  bear  to  think 
of  losing  me.  But  it  would  be  happier  for  her 
by-and-by,  perhaps,  if  she  could  let  me  speak  a 
little  now.  I  have  often  longed  for  you,  Katie." 
There  was  an  echo  of  past  loneliness  in  Grace's  sigh. 
All  Kath's  loving  tendance  had  not  sufficed.  One 
need  had  been  unmet. 

"  I  mustn't  let  you  talk  too  much." 

"'No,  not  too  much ;  but  a  little  will  not  hurt. 
I  have  had  nobody  to  understand  me  lately,  and 
you  do  so  well  understand.  Katie,  dear,  it  would  be 
very  nice  to  get  well  again ;  but,  if  I  don't,  you  will 
know  that  I  am  not  afraid  now.  And  I  suppose 
that,  when  Jesus  calls,  no  one  who  loves  Him  can 
be  really  sorry  to  go." 

"  Oh,  no ;  impossible ! "  Katie  said  earnestly. 

"  I  like  that,"  responded  Grace.  "  I  like  you  to  be 
so  sure.  It  sounds  real.  And  He  is  very  real  to 
me  now — more  every  day,  I  think.  It  must  be  so 
wonderful  to  see  Him — face  to  face !  I  think  one 
ought  to  be  able  to  wish  for  that  most — more  than 
anything  in  this  world." 


PASSING  AWAY.  183 

"If  we  loved  Him  as  He  loved  us!"  whispered  Katie. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it  is  more  love  that  we  want.  If 
I  am  pretty  well  to-morrow,  I  should  so  like  to  have 
Mr.  Hamilton  asked  to  come — for  Holy  Communion. 
Do  you  think  he  would  ?  He  did  once,  a  fortnight 
ago,  and  I  wanted  you  to  be  here  too ;  but  it  could 
not  be  managed." 

"  If  you  are  well  enough  in  the  morning.  Try  to 
rest  now,  Gracie  darling." 

Grace  smiled  and  shut  her  eyes,  lying  for  awhile 
very  quietly.  Nearly  half-an-hour  passed  before 
she  stirred  suddenly,  coughed,  and  tried  to  raise  her- 
self in  the  bed,  with  a  hurried,  "Katie!" 

"Do  you  want  anything,  dear?"  asked  Katie. 

"I  think — I  think — not  so  well!  Katie — help — 
I  can't  breathe !  " 

Katie  flew  to  ring  the  bell,  and  was  back  imme- 
diately, holding  up  the  struggling  girl.  Grace  had 
never  in  her  presence  had  so  terrible  an  attack  of 
breathlessness,  and  instead  of  yielding  to  the  usual 
remedies,  it  grew  worse.  Bessie  and  Ann  were 
speedily  in  the  room,  and  Mr.  Balfour  himself  hur- 
ried off  for  the  doctor.  Before  Mr.  Willoughby  could 
arrive,  deadly  fainting  had  set  in.  When  he  came, 
it  was  to  remain  long.  One  remedy  after  another 
was  tried,  and  tried  in  vain.  There  seemed  to  be  no 
rallying  power. 


1 84  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

For  a  while  every  precaution  was  taken  to  hide 
from  Kath  the  state  in  which  Grace  lay.  But  the 
spare  room  was  too  near,  and  all  sounds  could  not 
be  hushed.  Kath's  inquiries  grew  so  urgent  that 
evasion  became  impossible,  and  Winnie  at  length 
had  to  admit  that  Grace  was  worse.  All  Mr.  Wil- 
loughby'a  authority  could  hnrdly  restrain  her  then 
from  coming  to  Grace's  side. 

"  I  can't  stay  away  from  her — how  can  I  ? "  Kath 
cried  passionately.  "  I  am  always  with  Gracie  when 
she  is  ill.  Why  should  I  not  go  ?  It  would  not 
hurt  me." 

"  That  is  the  question,"  Mr.  Willoughby  said.  He 
had  been  brought  in  to  reason  with  her,  Winnie's 
efforts  at  restraint  proving  ineffectual.  "A  little 
over-exertion  now  might  make  a  serious  matter  of 
what  would  not  otherwise  be  serious." 

"  I  don't  mind.  If  only  I  can  be  with  Gracie  now, 
I  am  willing  to  pay  for  it  afterwards." 

"But  it  is  not  a  question  of  payment  on  your 
part  only.  You  have  to  think  of  others,"  said  Mr. 
Willoughby.  "  And  there  is  another  point  to  be 
considered.  If  you  went  to  Grace,  you  could  not 
stay  with  her.  You  are  not  in  a  state  for  sitting  or 
standing  about." 

"  I  could  lie  on  the  sofa " 

"  And  let  Grace  have  the  anxiety — — " 


PASSING  A  IV AY.  185 


Kath  could  oiily  sob.  "  Oh,  it  is  so  hard — so  hard 
to  be  kept  away.  Will  Gracie  be  better  soon  ?  Is 
she  worse  than  usual  ? " 

"  I  am  afraid  it  is  a  worse  attack  than  she  has  had 
yet;  but  there  may  be  an  improvement  presently. 
Kath,  you  could  do  no  good  by  coming,"  said  Mr. 
Willoughby.  "  You  shall  know  the  truth.  Grace's 
state  is  very  critical,  and  the  slightest  agitation 
might  turn  the  scale,  not  in  her  favour.  I  think  a 
rally  is  by  no  means  impossible,  even  now;  but  that 
is  all  I  can  say.  I  cannot  give  you  leave  to  go  to 
her  at  present,  for  her  sake  even  more  than  for  your 
own.  She  would  distress  herself  about  you." 

Kath  hid  her  face. 

"  You  understand  me.  At  present  I  dare  not  risk 
it.  But  if  there  should  be  a  marked  change  for  the 


worse 

"  You  would  call  me  then  ? "  muttered  Kath. 
"  Yes;  if  necessary,  you  should  be  carried  in." 
"  Promise,"  she  said,  with  fast-falling  tears. 
"  So  far  as  lies  in  my  power,  I  promise." 
And  he  went.     Kath  uttered  not  another  word, 
but  only  lay,  looking,  listening,  waiting. 

Not  many  in  the  house  could  sleep  that  night. 
.    Towards   three   o'clock    there    seemed    to   be   an 
improvement.      The    breathlessness    lessened,    and 
Gracie  was  more  like  her  usual   self.     Katie   felt 


186  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

surprised  that  Mr.  Willoughby  did  not  look  better 
satisfied.  Instead  of  going  home,  he  only  proposed 
to  have  an  hour's  rest  on  the  dining-room  sofa. 

Mr.  Balfour,  who  had  been  in  and  out  constantly, 
went  back  to  his  wife.  Winnie  and  Ann  both  went 
to  bed.  Kath  was  told  of  the  change  for  the  better, 
and  fell  into  a  doze,  a  smile  on  her  lips. 

Katie  and  Bessie  watched  still  beside  Grace. 
Neither  of  the  two  would  confess  to  weariness  ;  and, 
indeed,  there  was  no  one  to  take  their  place. 

Grace  seemed  drowsy  now,  and  disinclined  to  pay 
attention  to  anything;  but  after  some  repose  she 
opened  her  eyes  and  said  softly,  "  If  I  could  have 
lived  to  serve  Him ! " 

Katie  was  leaning  over  her  instantly.  "To  serve 
Jesus,  darling ! " 

"  Yes ;  He  died  for  me,  and  I  have  never  done 
anything  for  Him." 

"  I  think  you  have  borne  pain  patiently  for  Him. 
That  isn't  nothing." 

"  It  seems  so  little.  And  all  those  years  before ! 
I  would  work  now  for  Him — if  I  could." 

"  But  He  understands  that  you  can't." 

"  Oh,  I  know.     So  loving  and  kind,  isn't  He  ? " 

The  large  blue  eyes  looked  earnestly  from  one  to 
the  other. 

"  Tell  Kath  of  Jesus — what  He  is.     I  shall  want 


PASSING  AWAY.  187 

her  there,  too.  Tell  her — He  is  so  satisfying. 
Nothing  worth  having — doing — living  for — except 
Jesus  ! " 

"  Gracie,  you  do  believe  in  Him  ? "  asked  Bessie 
anxiously. 

Grade's  smile  was  exceedingly  sweet.  "  He  has 
shown  Himself  to  me,"  she  said.  "  Bessie  dear, 
try — try — to  honour  Him  more.  You  don't  mind 
my  saying  just  that." 

"  No ;  but  I  do  try  to  honour  Him,"  replied 
Bessie. 

Gracie's  eyes  were  bent  on  her. 

"  Yes,  I  am  sure.  Only,  perhaps — in  little  every- 
day things — perhaps  there  might  be  more  of  Christ 
— not  self — and  not  judging  others." 

"  I  will  try,"  Bessie  said,  quite  humbly. 

There  came  a  slight  pause,  during  which  Katie 
watched  Grace  intensely.  Was  there  something 
unusual  in  her  look  ? 

"  If  1  had  but  known  sooner !  I  do  wonder 
now  that  I  haven't  thought  more — cared  more — 
only  for  Christ !  .  .  .  One  can't  do  much — ever. 
But  what  one  can  .  .  ." 

"  Gracie,  you  are  tired,"  said  Katie. 

Another  sweet  calm  smile  answered  her. 

"  Won't  you  rest  now  ? " 

"  Yes — I  think — now.      Good-uumt."      And  the 


1 88  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

blue  eyes  closed,  with  one  short  sigh.  The  still- 
ness following  seemed  strange.  No  breath  broke  it. 

"  Bessie,  Bessie  ;  call  Mr.  Willoughby." 

Katie  stayed  herself,  alone  beside  the  silent  figure 
lying  there — asleep. 

"  Our  friend  Lazarus  sleepeth,"  the  Master  Him- 
self said  of  one  whom  He  loved.  And  that  was  the 
manner  of  Grace's  sleep.  Only  she  would  not 
awake  again  to  this  life  before  the  Eesurrection 
Day. 

When  Mr.  Willoughby  came  in,  one  look  at  Gracie 
told  him,  and  one  look  at  him  told  Katie  what  had 
come  upon  them  all.  And  the  two  words  which 
broke  from  Mr.  Willoughby  broke  at  the  same  instant 
from  Katie—"  Poor  Kath  !  " 


CHAPTER    XXL 

KATH'S  LOSS. 

'S  doze  lasted  long,  broken  only  by  pain 
of  moving.  She  stirred  uneasily  often, 
and  muttered  now  and  then;  but  though 
perhaps  never  sound  asleep,  she  was  never  quite 
awake,  till  after  early  dawn. 

She  did  not  know  that  Katie  was  lying  on  the 
sofa.  Katie  had  come  by  her  own  wish,  and  Mr. 
Willoughby  would  not  refuse  consent.  Bessie  had 
broken  down,  and  could  not  be  depended  on  for 
composure.  Winnie  was  asleep,  and  it  had  been 
decided  that  she  should  be  allowed  to  sleep  on  until 
morning.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Balfour  of  course  knew  the 
sad  blow  which  had  fallen  upon  them.  But  there 
seemed  no  one  fitted  to  undertake  poor  Kath  ;  and 
Katie,  in  her  own  grief,  felt  that  her  best  comfort 
would  be  in  tending  Kath  "  for  Grade's  sake."  Yet 
how  Katie  dreaded  the  moment  when  she  would 

have  to  tell  Kath,  no  one  knew  but  herself. 

189 


190  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

When  Kath  at  length  stirred  and  looked  up, 
Katie  was  beside  her,  in  her  dressing-gown,  with 
unbound  hair,  pale  cheeks,  and  tearful  eyes. 

"  0  Katie  !  you  should  not  have  left  Gracie,"  Kath 
said  reproachfully,  sitting  up  in  bed.  "  Please  go 
back  to  her  directly.  Just  tell  me  how  she  is  now, 
and  then  don't  wait  a  moment.  I  shall  do  alone,  I 
assure  you." 

"  How  are  you  this  morning  ? "  faltered  Katie. 

"  I  don't  know.  About  the  same,  I  suppose.  I 
am  dreadfully  stiff  all  over.  But  I  mean  to  get  up 
this  morning,  and  go  to  Gracie.  Mr.  Willoughby 
shall  not  keep  me  from  her  any  longer.  Just  tell  me 
how  she  is,  and  go.  Don't  wait.  She  will  want  you." 

"  No,  Kath— not  now." 

The  tone,  more  than  the  words,  said  much.  A  thrill, 
as  if  from  an  electric  shock,  passed  through  Kath. 

"  If  Gracie  is  worse Mr.  Willoughby  promised 

promised  to  call  me." 

"  Dear  Kath,  we  could  not.  He  wasn't  even  in 
the  room.  It  carne  so  suddenly — there  was  no  time. 
Only  Bessie  and  I  were  with  her." 

Kath  shuddered.  "  You  don't  mean  ? — Katie  ! " 
she  said  hoarsely. 

Katie's  sobs  were  the  only  answer.  She  had  kept 
up  well  hitherto,  but  the  long  strain  of  the  night 
had  been  too  much  for  her. 


KATH'S  LOSS.  191 


"  You  don't  mean  ! tell  me- 


Then,  when  Katie  would  have  taken  her  hand 
and  tried  to  speak  comfortingly,  she  snatched  the 
hand  away,  as  if  a  touch  were  unbearable,  and  buried 
her  face  in  the  pillows.  Silence  for  a  while  might 
be  best,  and  Katie  would  not  break  it.  She  sat 
waiting,  mastering  her  own  distress  with  difficulty. 
No  word  or  sound  came  from  Kath,  only  now  and 
then  a  writhing  movement. 

"  Kath,  dear,  wouldn't  you  like  me  to  tell  you 
more  ? "  Katie  asked  at  length. 

No  response  was  given,  and  she  waited  again, 
till  Kath  turned  up  a  white  fixed  face,  and  said 
passionately,  "  He  promised  to  call  me  ! " 

"  No  one  knew — no  one  could  tell,"  said  Katie. 
"  It  came  almost  in  a  moment." 

Then,  without  asking  leave  anew,  she  gave  a  few 
particulars,  telling  of  Grace's  calm  sweetness,  and 
of  her  message  to  Kath,  and  of  the  sudden  peaceful 
end.  Katie's  tears  fell  fast,  and  her  voice  faltered 
often,  while  Kath's  face  was  again  hidden. 

"  Mr.  Willoughby  seemed  to  be  so  thankful  that 
there  was  not  more  suffering,"  Katie  added.  "  He 
said  there  might  have  been, — it  might  have  been  so 
different.  Kath,  darling,  it  must  be  such  rest  to  her, 
after  all  she  has  borne.  Don't  you  think  we  ought 

to  be  a  little  glad  for  her  sake, — even  if " 

N 


1 92  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  You  ! "  Kath  broke  out  wildly.  Poor  Katie  had 
made  the  very  common  mistake  of  offering  too  soon 
words  which  might,  perhaps,  later  on,  have  brought 
a  comforting  thought,  but  which  as  yet  could  only 
rasp  the  new  wound.  "  You  !  what  is  it  to  you  ? 
Only  a  cousin  ! — and  only  with  her  a  few  weeks  ! 
She  was  mine  ! — my  darling — my  own — all  I  care 
for  in  the  world  !  Oh,  I  can't  bear  it ! "  and  Kath 
burst  into  an  agony  of  weeping.  "  0  Grade ! 
Gracie  !  Gracie  !  I  can't  live  without  her !  I  can't ! 
Oh,  go  away, — leave  me  alone  !  She  was  nothing 
to  you." 

Poor  Katie's  loving  heart  was  sorely  wounded, 
though  she  could  well  excuse  the  bitterness  of 
Kath's  first  grief.  She  sat  patiently  on,  making  no 
rejoinder,  till  Kath  so  vehemently  insisted  on  soli- 
tude, that  Katie  had  no  choice  but  to  obey.  She 
begged  Bessie  to  take  her  place,  and  then  went  to 
her  own  room  to  wash  and  dress,  feeling  very  sad 
and  weary,  but  determined  to  be  in  readiness  to  give 
help  when  it  might  be  needed. 

A  long  letter  from  her  father  by  the  early  post 
was  an  unspeakable  comfort  to  Katie.  In  losing 
Gracie,  she  had  lost  the  only  one  in  the  house  from 
whom  she  had  received  unvarying  kindness,  and 
ou  whose  affection  she  could  really  depend;  and 
a  sense  of  loneliness  pressed  upon  her.  While 


KATH'S  LOSS.  193 


sorrowing  with  all  around,  she  was  counted  by  them 
as  only  an  outsider ;  but  every  word  of  Mr.  Balfour's 
letter  breathed  tenderness  and  sympathy. 

"Dear,  dear  father!"  Katie  murmured.  "If  I 
haven't  anybody  else  in  the  world,  I  have  him ! " 

But  it  was  not  Katie's  way  to  spend  time  in 
thinking  about  herself.  Breakfast  proved  a  mournful 
meal;  only  Mr.  Balfour  and  Winnie  being  present, 
beside  herself.  Both  of  them  were  much  over- 
come. "  Ah,  Katie  ! — sad,  isn't  it  ? — my  poor  girl ! " 
Mr.  Balfour  said  brokenly.  "  And  you  were  with  her 
to  the  last, — we  shall  not  forget  that ! "  The  next 
moment,  to  her  surprise,  Winnie  was  clinging  to 
her,  sobbing  violently ;  and  Katie  found  attempts  at 
comfort  by  no  means  spurned  in  that  direction. 

A  little  later,  Katie  went  back  to  Kath,  and  found 
her  lying  with  closed  eyes,  refusing  to  speak  or  to  be 
spoken  to.  Mr.  Willoughby  coming  in,  could  obtain 
little  or  no  response.  "  Keep  her  quiet,"  was  his 
brief  order.  "  It  is  a  severe  shock  ;  and  she  is  not 
up  to  much." 

The  Old  Year  went  out,  and  the  New  Year  came  in, 
gravely  and  sadly  for  the  Balfours. 

Katie  found  herself  able  to  be  increasingly  helpful. 
With  the  exception  of  Kath,  all  in  the  house  more 
or  less  turned  to  her  in  their  trouble.  It  seemed 
as  if  all  she  had  been  able  to  do  for  Gracie  towards 


194  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

the  last,  had  drawn  her  into  closer  contact  with  the 
family  as  a  whole.  Mr.  Balfour  liked  to  have  Katie 
to  walk  with  him;  and  Mrs.  Balfour  liked  to  have 
Katie  to  sit  with  her.  The  latter,  though  almost 
recovered,  counted  herself  a  semi-invalid  still,  and 
made  much  use  of  her  niece,  to  Katie's  great 
pleasure.  Bessie  often  talked  to  Katie  of  Grace  ; 
and  "Winnie,  from  that  first  morning,  clung  to  her 
strangely,  perhaps  finding  in  Katie  just  the  warmth 
of  affection  which  she  had  never  till  now  felt  the 
want  of,  but  which  no  one  else  in  the  house  could 
or  would  give  to  her.  Only  Kath  held  aloof. 
Only  Kath  was  cold  and  ungracious.  It  might  have 
been  partly  from  sorrow,  and  partly  from  illness ; 
but  Katie  could  not  be  sure.  For  Kath  was  ill  yet ; 
she  seemed  too  hopeless  and  miserable  to  get  well. 
The  strain  was  better,  and  the  bruises  disappearing ; 
but  Kath  made  no  effort  to  be  up  and  about  again. 
Mr.  "Willoughby  grew  really  anxious  about  her,  as 
time  went  on.  Her  one  great  interest  in  life  gone, 
she  appeared  to  care  for  nothing  else.  He  feared 
that  she  might  sink  into  a  condition  of  permanent 
ill-health,  from  sheer  lack  of  energy  to  get  well. 

It  did  sometimes  seem  strange  to  Katie  that 
Bessie  should  not  suffer  more  from  self-reproach. 
There  could  be  no  doubt  that  the  shock  which  had 
brought  on  Grade's  last  and  fatal  attack  was,  partly 


KATH'S  LOSS.  195 


at  least,  due  to  Bessie's  thoughtlessness,  Bessie's 
wilfuluess.  But  Bessie  was  one  of  those  people  who 
do  not  suffer  greatly  from  self-blame.  She  had  by 
nature  a  complacent  belief  in  her  own  actions.  If 
not  always  intrinsically  right,  they  had,  at  all 
events,  "seemed  right  at  the  time."  This  was 
enough  for  Bessie's  peace  of  mind. 

This,  however,  was  not  enough  for  Kath.  Much 
of  remorse  mingled  with  the  pain  of  loss.  If  Bessie 
by  nature  would  blame  herself  too  little,  Kath  by 
nature  would  blame  herself  too  much.  She  had 
never  forgotten  the  slight  gust  of  temper  which  had, 
perhaps,  in  some  measure,  caused  Gracie's  severe 
attack  of  hemorrhage  several  weeks  earlier, — had 
never  forgiven  herself  for  it.  And  she  could  not 
now  forget,  or  forgive  herself  for  having  left  Gracie 
alone, — still  more  for  having  left  her  in  Bessie's 
charge,  and  for  not  having  summoned  Katie.  But 
while  haunted  day  and  night  by  these  recollections, 
Kath  would  not  speak  of  them.  Pride  sealed  her 
lips. 

Kath  might  perhaps  have  been  more  ready  to 
turn  to  Katie,  but  for  another  ingredient  in  her 
distress.  Though  on  the  one  hand  fully  aware  of 
Katie's  usefulness  in  the  sick-room,  and  really  grate- 
ful for  it,  on  the  other  hand,  Kath  could  not  forgive 
Katie  for  having,  at  the  last,  filled  her  place  with 


196  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

Gracie.  Moreover,  she  felt  that  in  one  sense,  Katie 
had  been  actually  more  to  Gracie  than  she  herself 
could  have  been.  This  was  the  bitterest  drop  of 
all.  Kath  made  no  mention  of  it ;  but  the  thought 
rankled.  And  thus  it  came  to  pass  that,  as  weeks 
went  on,  Katie  strove  still  to  win  her  way  into 
Kath's  love  and  confidence,  and  strove,  or  seemed 
to  strive,  in  vain. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 


A  QUESTION. 
THERE  goes  a  'king's  ransom!'     Whew!" 


shivered  Harold,  as  he  dashed  through  "The 
Nutshell"  garden,  and  into  the  small  house, 
just  escaping  a  renewed  rush  of  March  wind  and 
March  dust.  "  It  is  cold,  and  no  mistake  !  Well, 
mother  dear, — pretty  well?"  He  stooped  to  kiss 
her  affectionately;  then  pulled  off  his  coat,  and  took 
refuge  near  the  fire.  "  Haven't  felt  such  an  icy 
blast  all  the  winter.  I  suppose  this  is  a  parting  flap 
from  the  coat-tails  of  King  Frost,  before  he  takes  his 
final  departure.  By-the-bye,  I  saw  Kath  just  now, 
driving  with  Aunt  Ruth.  So  my  uncle  has  found  a 
pony  at  last  ? " 

"Mr.  Willoughby  ordered  daily  drives  for  Kath, 
and  there  was  no  more  delay." 

"  I  wonder  they  venture  to  take  her  out  on  a  day 
like  this.  She  looked  shrivelled  up,  notwithstanding 
110  end  of  furs." 


198  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  She  gets  so  depressed  indoors,  aud  yet  seems  to 
have  no  energy  for  walking." 

"  Poor  Kath  !  She  and  Gracie  always  seemed  to 
be  one.  Well,  I  don't  like  her  look  now,"  Harold 
said  gravely. 

"  It  was  a  good  deal  worse  six  weeks  ago.  But 
she  doesn't  get  on  as  she  should.  There  seems  a 
resolute  unhappiness  about  her, — a  determination  to 
care  for  nothing  in  life  acrain." 

o  *j 

"  Somebody  else  doesn't  look  unhappy,"  Harold 
said,  as  a  bright  girlish  face  flashed  along  the  road. 
"  Mother ! — I  never  saw  Katie  with  such  a  colour. 
Not  coming  in  !  Why  didn't  she  give  one  look  in 
this  direction  ? " 

"Katie  seems  to  be  enjoying  the  March  breezes," 
said  Mrs.  Carrington. 

"Norfolk  has  inured  her  to  cold  blasts.  Why 
couldn't  she  come  in  ? "  repeated  Harold. 

"  I  dare  say  she  is  on  an  errand  for  somebody. 
They  are  learning  how  to  make  use  of  Katie  at '  The 
Walnuts.'  Well,  it  will  not  be  much  longer,"  mused 
Mrs.  Carrington.  "  Harold,  iny  dear,  I  have  a  letter 
this  morning,  and  there  is  an  enclosure  for  you." 

"  From  Uncle  Stephen  ? " — and  Harold's  hand  was 
extended. 

"  Yes.     You  may  read  mine  as  well  as  yours." 

The  clock  ticked  for  a  while   in   uninterrupted 


A   QUESTION.  199 


silence.  Harold  was  entirely  absorbed  iii  the  two 
letters ;  and  Mrs.  Carrington  was  entirely  absorbed 
in  watching  him.  A  smile  grew  upon  her  face,  as 
the  healthy  glow  in  his  cheeks  deepened. 

"  Satisfied,  my  boy  ?  "  she  asked  at  length. 

"  No,  mother,"  Harold  said,  looking  up.  "  Not 
till  I  have  Katie's  own  answer." 

He  put  both  sheets  on  her  knee,  adding,  "  Eead 
mine  too," — and  she  obeyed. 

"  It  is  a  very  hearty  consent,"  she  said  quietly,  at 
the  end.  "  I  never  knew  Stephen  Balfour  express 
himself  more  warmly.  But,  as  he  says,  he  is  taking 
you  on  trust.  It  is  natural  that  he  should  wish  you 
to  wait  till  he  comes  home." 

"  Mother,  I  don't  think  I  can." 

"  Three  weeks  only  ! " 

"Three  or  four.  I  don't  think  I  can  wait." 
Harold  spoke  steadily,  but  his  mother  could  see  a 
brown  hand  clenched  till  it  grew  white.  "  I  can't 
tell  you  what  the  suspense  is  to  me.  I  have  no 

peace  day  or  night,  thinking  of  her,  and  if No, 

I  don't  think  I  can  wait.  I  must  put  it  to  the  test 
soon,  and  learn  the  best — or  worst.  I  am  not  like 
most  people,  you  know.  Perhaps  it  is  impatience ; 
but  I  can't  work  well  under  suspense.  And  Uncle 
Stephen  does  not  forbid  me  to  speak  to  Katie.  He 
takes  me  on  trust,  he  says, — from  what  you  and 


200  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

Katie  say,  as  well  as  my  own  letter.  What  Katie 
says,  mother, — so  she  must  have  spoken  kindly  of 
me.  But  that  may  mean  nothing, — and  she  is  so 
simple, — I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  her  manner. 
Only  I  do  not  think  I  can  wait  much  longer." 

"  You  always  were  an  impatient  boy,"  Mrs.  Car- 
rington  answered,  letting  her  hand  rest  on  his  arm. 
She  had  made  no  attempt  to  interrupt  him  earlier. 
"  You  might  be  wiser  now  to  wait  awhile, — for  your 
own  sake,  I  mean,  apart  from  Stephen's  wish.  But 
it  is  true  that  he  leaves  you  free ;  and  I  cannot,  of 
course,  decide  for  you.  How  would  it  do  if  I  asked 
Katie  to  spend  the  next  three  weeks  with  us  ?  " 

"  Mother,  will  you  ? " 

Mrs.  Carrington  smiled  at  his  eagerness.  Before 
she  could  speak  again,  there  was  a  light  tap  at  the 
door,  and  a  bright  face  peeped  in. 

"  May  I  come  in,  Aunt  Chattie  ? " 

"  Come  in,  my  dear." 

"Oh,  I  didn't  know  Harold  was  here!"  Katie 
gave  him  her  hand  demurely,  and  then  turned  to 
Mrs.  Carrington  for  a  second  kiss,  her  eyes  dancing 
with  delight. 

"  Aunt  Chattie, — oh,  such  good  news  ! "  she  cried. 
"  I  have  a  letter  from  my  father  this  morning ;  and 
he  is  coming  home  in  three  weeks.  And  he  is  so 


A  QUESTION.  201 


much  stronger, — quite  a  different  man,  he  says  ;  and 
his  cough  really  gone.  To  think  of  only  three  weeks 
more ! " 

"  I  have  had  a  letter  from  him  too,  Katie,  and  he 
tells  me  the  same  good  news." 

"  And  you  are  glad  !  Oh,  I  know  you  and  Harold 
are  glad." 

"I  ought  to  be,  but  I  don't  feel  at  all  glad," 
Harold  responded  gravely.  "  It  may  be  nothing  to 
you  to  leave  us  all,  Katie ;  but  it  is  by  no  means 
nothing  for  us  to  lose  you." 

Was  the  tone  one  of  real  pain  ?  Katie  could  not 
make  out.  She  looked  at  him  wistfully,  and  the 
shadow  on  his  face  grew  lighter. 

"  The  time  hasn't  gone  so  very  slowly,  child,  after 
all,"  said  Mrs.  Carrington. 

"  Hasn't  it  ?  I  don't  know.  Yes,  I  think  it  has," 
said  Katie.  "  So  much  has  happened,  and  I  have 
seen  so  much  more  of  people  and  things.  I  feel  years 
older  than  last  autumn.  But  I  wouldn't  undo  it,  if 
I  could — now.  I  shouldn't  like  not  to  know  you  all, 
and  not  to  have  known  dear  sweet  Gracie." 

"  Norfolk  life  will  seem  strange  again,  after  Pens- 
hurst,"  said  Harold. 

"  Oh,  lovely  ! "  Katie  answered,  and  again  his  face 
fell.  Then  she  stopped,  and  seemed  to  be  consider- 


LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 


ing.  "  Yes, — because  it  will  be  home.  And  having 
dear  father  again ;  yes,  that  will  be  lovely.  But  I 
am  almost  afraid  Eckham  will  seem  just  a  little  dull 
and  lonely  at  first.  I've  no  friends  there,  and  I 
shall  want  you  all  so  much." 

Unconsciously  or  instinctively  her  eyes  went  to 
Harold.  Mother  and  son  both  marked  this,  and 
Harold's  spirits  rose. 

It  was  not  at  all  Mrs.  Carrington's  wish  that 
matters  should  come  to  a  point  just  then.  She  was 
very  doubtful  as  to  I^atie's  state  of  feeling  about 
her  son,  and  she  counted  that  delay  would  be  wisest, 
as  she  had  said,  for  Harold's  own  sake.  But  at 
this  moment  the  maid  came  to  the  door,  and  said, 
"  Please  'm,  Mrs.  Smart  wants  to  see  you,  in  a  ter- 
rible hurry.  Her  little  boy's  gone  and  scalded 
himself,  and  she  don't  know  what  to  do." 

Mrs.  Carrington  was  accustomed  to  such  appeals, 
and  she  went  at  once,  though  wishing  that  the  little 
boy  might  have  chosen  some  other  time  for  the  feat. 
Mrs.  Smart's  cottage  lay  only  a  minute's  walk  dis- 
tant, and  the  description  of  the  child's  condition 
was  such  as  to  make  her  hurriedly  slip  on  warm 
wraps,  and  set  off  with  the  distressed  mother. 
Once  there,  Mrs.  Carrington  could  not  quickly  get 
away  again. 


A  QUESTION.  203 


So  it  came  to  pass  that  Katie  was  left  with  Harold 
for  a  good  half-hour ;  she  waiting  for  Mrs.  Carring- 
ton's  return,  not  even  knowing  her  to  have  left  the 
house;  he,  bent  upon  making  the  most  of  this  unex- 
pected opportunity. 

"Well,  Katie,  my  dear, — I  hope  you  have  not 
thought  me  very  rude,"  Mrs.  Carrington  said,  re- 
appearing at  length  in  bonnet  and  cloak.  "  I  found 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  see  Tommy  Smart 
myself,  and  to  persuade  the  mother  to  call  in  Mr. 
Willoughby.  Badly  scalded,  poor  little  boy.  What 
have  you  two  been  talking  about  ? " 

She  paused  a  moment,  looking  from  one  to  the 
other.  Harold's  face  was  glowing  with  hopefulness ; 
and  Katie's  was  crimson. 

"So  that  is  it,  children,"  she  said  slowly. 
"  Harold !  Harold !  you  wilful  boy.  You  never 
had  a  grain  of  patience.  Well,  Katie  ? " 

Katie  gave  one  shy  look  up ;  then  flung  herself 
into  a  pair  of  motherly  clasping  arms. 

"  Why,  Katie !  Harold,  you  have  spoken  too 
hastily,  and  frightened  the  little  woman." 

"  No,  mother,  it's  not  that,"  Harold  answered. 

"  Then  what  is  it  ? " 

And  from  the  face  hidden  on  her  shoulder  came  a 
smothered  sound  of — "  Father." 


204  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  Ah,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Carrington.  "  But  Harold 
has  told  you  that  your  father  consents." 

"  Oh,  yes, — only — only " 

"  Only  you  think  he  would  be  lonely.  Time  enough 
for  such  considerations,"  said  Mrs.  Carrington, 
stroking  the  smooth  head.  "  One  step  is  all  that  can 
be  taken  at  a  time,  Katie.  And  there  may  be  a  long 
waiting  season  before  you  both.  If  your  father 
would  consent — and  he  would  not — to  marriage  on 
a  hundred  and  thirty  pounds  a  year,  Harold's  mother 
could  not." 

That  brought  Katie  to  an  upright  position.  "  Oh  ! 
— as  if "  she  said. 

Mrs.  Carringtou  laughed,  and  made  her  sit  down. 
"  Yes,  yes,  I  understand,"  she  said.  "  But  you  see 
it  is  no  immediate  question  of  having  to  leave  your 
father." 

"  If  I  know  that  Katie  is  mine,  I  can  wait,"  said 
Harold. 

"  Till  a  living  drops  from  somewhere,"  added  Mrs. 
Carrington. 

"  And  when  it  does, — why  should  not  our  home 
be  Uncle  Stephen's  too  ? " 

"  True, — why  not  ? "  echoed  Mrs.  Carrington. 
"  Norfolk  may  not  always  suit  his  health,  perhaps." 
Then  she  asked  softly,  "  Is  that  the  only  barrier  in 


A  QUESTION. 


205 


the   way   of   Katie's   answer — such    an   answer  as 
Harold  and  I  wish  for  ? " 

Another  pause,  and  Harold  seemed  almost  to  hold 
his  breath.  Katie  lifted  her  eyes,  looked  at  him,  and 
said,  "Yes." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 
THE  LAST  THREE  WEEKS. 

[AS  Katie  come  home  yet  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Bal- 
four. hurrying  into  the  drawing-room  of 
"  The  Walnuts." 

Mrs.  Balfour  was  seated  before  a  blazing  fire,  with 
feet  propped  on  the  fender,  reading  a  novel.  Kath 
lay  upon  one  of  the  sofas, — not  that  used  always  by 
Gracie  during  her  illness, — listless,  white-cheeked, 
and  unoccupied.  Winnie  bent  over  a  small  drawing 
at  a  side-table.  Nobody  else  happened  to  be  present. 

"  She  looked  in  just  for  a  moment.  She's  upstairs 
in  her  room,"  said  Winnie. 

"I've  a  piece  of  news  for  you  all,  about  Katie. 
Guess  what  it  is  ! " 

Mr.  Balfour  advanced  to  the  middle  of  the  room, 
and  stood  there,  beaming  with  the  importance  of  his 
secret. 

"  It's  no  news,"  said  Mrs.  Balfour. 

"  What !  did  Katie  tell  you  herself  ? " 
206 


THE  LAST  THREE  WEEKS.  207 

"  Of  course.  She  had  the  letter  this  morning.  I 
don't  half  know  what  we  shall  do  without  her  now, 
for  my  part,"  said  Mrs.  Balfour.  "Whatever  her 
faults  may  be,  she's  always  ready  to  do  anything 
for  anybody ;  and  that's  more  than  I  can  say  for  my 
girls." 

"  Mother ! "  protested  Winnie,  from  her  corner. 

"  Oh,  you  are  talking  of  Stephen  coming  back 
in  three  weeks.  But  I  don't  mean  that.  I  have 
another  piece  of  news." 

"What  is  it,  father?"  asked  Winnie,  and  even 
Kath  glanced  up  with  languid  interest. 

"  Guess." 

"Anything  to  do  with  '  The  Nutshell '  ? " 

Mr.  Balfour  nodded. 

"Harold  has  come  in  for  a  fortune,"  hazarded 
Winnie. 

Mr.  Balfour  seemed  very  much  amused. 

"I  wish  he  had.  Couldn't  be  anything  more 
appropriate  at  the  present  moment.  But  no  doubt 
he  counts  what  he  has  come  in  for,  to  be  worth 
any  number  of  fortunes." 

"Anybody  engaged  to  be  married?  Harold!" 
cried  Winnie,  clapping  her  hands.  "And  who's 
she  ?  Father,  you  don't  mean  to  say  it's  Katie  ? " 

"  Just  that  exactly,"  said  Mr.  Balfour. 

Mrs.  Balfour  was  frowning.     "Absurd  choice  of 

o 


208  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

Harold's,"  she  said.  "  Why,  Katie  has  not  a  penny, 
and  will  not  have.  What  can  Chattie  be  thinking 
of  ?  Stephen  will  refuse  his  consent." 

"Stephen  has  given  his  consent.  Harold  wrote 
and  asked  for  it,  before  speaking.  Of  course  they 
have  no  idea  of  immediate  marriage.  Katie  could 
not  leave  her  father  at  present,  and  Harold's  income 
is  not  sufficient.  However,  they  are  both  young, 
and  can  well  afford  to  wait  for  a  few  years." 

"  Absurd  !  "  murmured  Mrs.  Balfour. 

"Well,  I  don't  see  that,  if  it  makes  them  both 
happy.  Chattie  wants  to  have  Katie  at  'The  Nut- 
shell' till  her  father  comes  home, — quite  natural, 
too.  I  said  we  should  be  very  sorry  to  lose  her,  but 
she,  of  course,  must  go." 

"When?" 

"To-morrow,  I  believe, — unless  Katie  prefers  to 
wait  until  next  day.  I  declare,  I  shall  miss  her 
face  immensely.  She  always  looks  happy,  and 
never  seems  to  be  out  of  temper." 

"I'm  going  upstairs  to  Katie,"  announced  Winnie, 
laying  down  her  pencil,  and  springing  to  her 
feet. 

But  at  the  same  moment  Kath  was  rising  slowly. 
"No,  Winnie, — by-and-by,  please,"  she  said.  "I 
should  like  to  be  the  first." 

Winnie  immediately  sat  down  again,  not  a  little 


THE  LAST  THREE  WEEKS.  209 

astonished,  but  with  no  thought  of  resistance.  Kath 
was  always  allowed  now  to  have  her  own  way. 

A  soft  tap  presently  sounded  at  Katie's  door. 
The  softer  footfall  preceding  had  been  unheard 
within.  Katie  said,  "Come  in!"  but  Kath's  sad 
pale  face  was  the  very  last  that  she  would  have 
expected  to  see. 

"  Kath ! "  escaped  her  lips,  in  a  tone  of  surprise ; 
and  then  a  bright  colour  rushed  into  her  cheeks. 
"  Oh,  come,"  she  said,  as  Kath  seemed  to  hesitate  on 
the  threshold.  "  Come,  Kath  dear." 

"  May  I  ? "  Kath  asked. 

"  Yes,  please  do.     But  this  is  too  cold  for  you." 

"  Oh  no  ;  it  doesn't  matter." 

Kath  shut  the  door,  and  came  slowly  across  the 
room.  Katie  was  standing  by  the  bed.  Kath  sat 
down  upon  it,  drew  Katie  down  beside  her,  and 
said,  "  I  am  glad " 

Voice  failed  there.  She  put  one  arm  round  Katie, 
and  held  her  fast,  trembling. 

"  Kath,  'you  are  cold,"  Katie  said  at  first.  "  Oh, 
don't, — Kath  darling, — please  don't." 

"  0  Katie,  I  don't  know  how  to  lose  you." 

The  words  seemed  wrung  from  her.  Katie  heard 
in  amazement.  "  Why,  Kath, — I  thought  you  didn't 
care  for  me." 

"  Oh,  how  could One  couldn't  help   loving 


210  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

you !  No, — it  hasn't  been  that.  I  have  only  been 
miserable.  And  it  will  be  worse  now, — now  you 
are  going.  The  last  of  her — my  own,  own  Gracie! 
— and  no  hope — no  seeing  her  again.  I  don't  know 
how  to  bear  it.  Nothing  to  live  for — no  looking 
forward — I  don't  know  how  to  bear  it.  I  have  been 
so  unkind  to  you, — but  I  thought  you  understood. 
It  was  only — all  misery.  And  now — you  going  too." 

Incoherently  as  the  sobbing  sentences  dropped 
from  her,  Katie  could  not  but  gather  the  general 
meaning. 

"  Would  you  rather  I  should  stay  here  till  father 
comes  home, — and  not  go  to  '  The  Nutshell '  ? " 

"No,"  Kath  said  at  once,  speaking  more  calmly. 
"It  would  not  be  right.  Harold  has  a  right  to 
expect " 

"Harold  will  be  there  for  a  week,"  said  Katie, 
flushing.  "  Or  perhaps  ten  days.  Shall  I  come 
back  after  that  ? " 

"  Could  you — really  ?     Would  you  ?  " 

"Yes." 

Then,  after  a  short  silence,  Kath  whispered,  "I 
am  glad, — I  am  indeed.  I  ought  to  congratulate 
you  properly." 

"  I  don't  want  that,"  Katie  answered.  "  Yes,  I 
know  you  are  glad — you  will  be — all  of  you.  And 
my  father " 


THE  LAST  THREE  WEEKS.  211 

"  Harold  is  really  good.  You  and  he  will  just  suit 
one  another." 

"  Yes.  Oh,  I  know !  Harold  is "  Katie  was 

smiling,  yet  her  voice  faltered.  "I  think  I  am  silly. 
It  seems  as  if  I  couldn't  quite  believe  it  all  yet." 

"  You  deserve  to  be  happy,"  murmured  Kath. 

"  Oil  no ;  don't  say  that,  please.  It  only  makes  me 
feel  how  little  you  really  know  me.  Kath,  if  only  I 
could  see  you  a  little  brighter  before  leaving  Pen?- 
hurst,  I  should  be  so  glad." 

"  I  can't  pretend  to  be  bright,"  said  Kath  de- 
jectedly. "  There's  nothing  now  that  I  care  for, 
since " 

"  But,  Kath  dear,  I  don't  think  Gracie  would  wish 
you  to  give  up  all  your  life  to  sorrowing  for  her.  I 
am  sure  she  would  not." 

"We  were  always  together.  Nothing  is  worth 
doing  without  her." 

"Yes,  I  know;  I  suppose  one  must  have  that 
feeling  at  first.  Only  perhaps  one  oughtn't  to  give 
way  to  it ;  don't  you  think  so  1  And  there  are 
things  worth  doing." 

Kath's  lips  moved. 

"  You  know  what  Gracie  wished  so  much  at  last, 
— that  she  had  lived  more  for  God." 

Kath  only  sighed. 

"  If  everything  else  in  life  were  taken  away,  one 


212  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

might  still  have  that,"  continued  Katie.  "I  mean 
one  might  have  the  love  of  God,  and  the  Presence 
of  Christ,  and  His  service " 

"I  did  my  very  best  to  keep  Gracie  back  from 
God,"  said  Kath,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Yes  ;  but  you  weren't  able.  How  thankful  you 
must  be  now,"  Katie  answered.  "  Jesus  was  seeking 
her, — and  no  one  could  hinder  His  finding.  Kath 
darling,  don't  you  think  that  perhaps  He  is  seeking 
you  now  ? " 

Kath  burst  into  fresh  tears.  "  If  I  could  care  for 
anything,  I  might  care  for  that,"  she  said.  "I  do 
think  you  could  help  me,  if  you  were  to  be  here  still 
part  of  the  time.  But  please  don't  tell  anybody 
what  we  have  been  saying." 

Katie  did  not  "  tell  anybody."  She  only  arranged 
quietly  to  spend  the  latter  half  of  the  remaining 
three  weeks  at  "  The  Walnuts."  She  was  surprised 
and  touched  to  hear  the  many  regrets  expressed  on 
all  sides  about  her  coming  departure.  The  time 
sped  quickly.  The  first  ten  days,  spent  at  "The 
Nutshell,"  were  full  of  brightness ;  and  the  last  ten 
days,  spent  at "  The  Walnuts,"  were  full  of  usefulness. 
Katie's  "Life  in  a  Nutshell'' — whether  walnut  or 
filbert — was  almost  at  an  end.  But  before  that  end 
came,  she  had  the  joy  of  seeing  Kath  really  happier, 
really  less  sad  and  hopeless. 


THE  LAST  THREE  WEEKS.       213 

Life  to  Katie  herself  looked  anything  but  sad  or 
hopeless.  She  would  rather  have  described  it  as  all 
sunshine.  Yet  her  feelings  were  necessarily  mixed 
in  kind.  Between  the  prospect  of  seeing  her  father 
once  more,  and  the  prospect  of  parting  from  Harold ; 
between  the  pleasure  of  going  back  to  her  old  home, 
and  the  pain  of  quitting  Penshurst;  Katie  did  at 
times  find  herself  under  a  considerable  strain.  But 
hers  was  a  placid  nature,  and  she  possessed  a  happy 
faculty  for  looking  at  the  bright  side  of  things. 


CHAPTEE  XXIV. 
TOGETHER. 

CROWD  of  expectant  people  stood  upon 
the  pier,  and  a  steamer  witli  crowded  deck 
was  drawing  near.  Small  waves  splashed 
among  the  piles  below,  and  sparkled  in  the  sunlight. 
A  pleasanter  day  could  hardly  have  been  chosen  for 
Mr.  Balfour's  return  to  England. 

Katie  was  there,  among  the  waiting  throng,  stand- 
ing between  Mrs.  Carrington  and  Harold.  They 
had  brought  her  to  welcome  her  father, — unknown 
to  him.  The  cost  was  theirs.  Katie  herself  could 
not  have  ventured  to  incur  it. 

"I  can't  see  him  yet.  He  must  be  on  board," 
she  said  repeatedly. 

"  Patience,  Katie !  All  in  good  time,"  said  Mrs. 
Carrington. 

"  But  if  anything  should  have  kept  him  !  Oh,  I 
do  hope  he  is  there,  all  right." 

The  big  steamer  was  by  this  time  alongside,  and 


TOGETHER.  215 


gangways  were  flung  across  the  space  between.  A 
stream  of  passengers  poured  landward.  No  signs, 
however,  were  to  be  seen  of  Mr.  Balfour.  Katie's 
bright  face  grew  dull. 

"  Harold,  he  can't  have  come.  What  can  be  the 
reason  ? "  she  asked. 

"Curious!"  Harold  remarked  at  length.  "We 
must  wait  a  few  minutes  longer,  Katie,  till  I  can 
get  on  board  and  inquire.  Something  may  have 
occurred  to  make  him  delay." 

"  But  he  has  not  written.  Nothing  would  make 
him  put  off,  just  at  last,  except  illness.  My  father 
is  not  given  to  changing  his  plans." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure,  Katie.  Nobody  knows  yet," 
said  Mrs.  Carrington. 

Still  the  disembarking  stream  of  passengers  poured 
on,  blocking  the  gangways.  Patience  had  to  be 
exercised.  Harold  drew  Katie's  hand  within  his 
arm,  and  gave  her  a  comforting  look. 

"Don't  be  afraid,  my  Katie.  It  will  all  come 
right,"  he  said. 

"  Only — if  anything  should  have  happened  to 
him!" 

Almost  all  the  passengers  had  landed,  when 
suddenly  a  well-known  venerable  figure  appeared 
on  the  deck,  walking  towards  the  nearest  way  of 
exit,  now  for  a  brief  space  almost  clear. 


LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 


"  Father !  oh  ! "  Katie  joyously  exclaimed. 

She  drew  her  hand  from  Harold's  arm,  and  ran 
impetuously  forward  to  join  him.  In  a  moment 
she  was  close  to  the  gangway,  and  at  the  same 
instant  two  big  men,  carrying  huge  packages,  dashed 
over  from  the  vessel,  seeing  little  where  they  went, 
and  unconscious  of  Katie's  vicinity.  With  a  little 
cry,  Katie  started  back,  avoiding  thus  what  might 
have  been  a  really  violent  blow,  but  she  did  not 
escape.  The  foremost  man  came  into  collision  with 
her,  though  not  severely ;  and  the  boards  were  slippery 
with  salt  water. 

Katie  could  never  afterwards  remember  whether 
she  only  slid,  or  was  actually  thrown  to  the  very 
edge  of  the  pier,  close  beside  the  heaving  gangway, 
where  nothing  existed  to  keep  her  from  going  down 
into  the  deep  water,  which  splashed  to  and  fro 
between  the  steamer  and  the  piles.  She  only  knew 
that  there  she  found  herself,  kneeling,  clutching 
convulsively  at  something,  one  foot  actually  over 
the  abyss. 

"  Katie,"  Mrs.  Carrington  cried  in  terror,  and — 
"Oh,  my  Katie!"  sounded  from  the  deck.  But 
almost  before  Katie  had  realised  her  danger,  Harold's 
two  hands  were  grasping  her  firmly. 

"  Katie,  are  you  hurt  ?  How  was  it  ?  How  could 
you  ? "  Harold  asked  hoarsely,  and  she  saw  him  to 


TOGETHER.  217 


be  blanched  and  shaken,  so  that  he  could  hardly 
speak,  even  while  he  drew  her  back  from  the  edge, 
lifting  her  from  the  kneeling  position. 

"  I  don't  know.  It  doesn'c  matter.  I'm  all  right," 
Katie  answered,  speaking  firmly.  She  was  not  even 
pale  or  frightened  herself ;  the  peril  had  been  so 
instantaneously  at  an  end, — also  her  mind  was  full 
of  Mr.  Balf our.  "  I'm  all  right,  indeed ;  please  let 
ine  go.  Father  is  there." 

"  I  can't  trust  you  alone."  Harold  spoke  huskily 
still,  and  held  her  fast.  "Wait  one  minute.  Mr. 
Balfour  is  coining." 

"  My  dear  Katie,  you  have  alarmed  us  fearfully. 
How  did  it  happen  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Carrington's  voice 
by  her  side. 

But  Katie  only  looked  up,  and  with  an  eager,  "  0 
father ! "  was  in  his  arms,  regardless  of  spectators. 
"  Are  you  glad  to  be  back,  father  ?  Oh,  it  is  delight- 
ful," she  murmured. 

No  response  came  at  first,  and  then  only,  "  I  think 
we  had  better  get  out  of  this  crowd." 

Katie  looked  up  in  his  face,  astonished  to  find  him 
pallid  and  hardly  able  to  stand.  "  Why,  father,"  she 
said  involuntarily,  "  father,  dear,  I  thought  you  were 
so  much  better." 

"You  have  upset  us  all,  Katie,"  Mrs.  Carrington 
said  in  a  low  voice.  "  Hush,  don't  spenk  of  it  yer. 


218  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

Harold  will  see  to  the  luggage,  and  we  must  get  your 
father  to  the  hotel.  Don't  you  understand  ? "  still 
lower,  in  answer  to  Katie's  look.  "My  dear,  I 
thought  for  a  moment  that  nothing  could  stop  your 
going  over,  and  he  saw  it  too." 

"  Was  I  so  near  ?  I  didn't  know,"  Katie  answered 
gravely. 

She  slipped  an  arm  through  Mr.  Balfour's,  and 
helped  his  faltering  steps.  They  lef  c  the  pier  behind, 
crossed  the  road,  and  entered  the  hotel.  A  glass  of 
water  had  to  be  procured  before  Mr.  Balfour  could 
manage  to  mount  the  stairs,  but  once  in  an  easy 
chair,  in  the  little  private  sitting-room  already 
engaged,  he  seemed  better.  Katie  was  kneeling  by 
his  side,  with  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  when  Harold 
came  in. 

"  All  right  and  comfortable  now  ? "  he  asked  in  a 
cheery  voice. 

"  Harold  has  his  natural  colour  again,"  Mrs.  Car- 
rington  remarked.  '  "  Katie  seems  to  have  been  less 
alarmed  than  anybody." 

"  I  suppose  I  had  no  time  to  think.  Father,  I  am 
so  disappointed  not  to  see  you  really  well,  as  I 
expected." 

"I  have  been  remarkably  well.  Not  robust, — 
the  doctors  tell  me  I  must  not  look  for  that, — but 
well.  This  is  nothing,  Katie, — only  the  shock  of 


TOGETHER.  219 


seeing — I  don't  think  I  can  speak  of  it  yet,"  he  said, 
with  an  effort. 

"  Don't,  father,  please.  It  is  over  now,  and  there's 
no  need.  But  what  do  the  doctors  think  about 
Norfolk  for  you  ?  " 

Mr.  Balfour  made  no  immediate  answer.  Some- 
thing in  Harold's  manner  of  standing  beside  Katie 
had  attracted  his  attention.  He  glanced  from  one 
to  the  other  questioningly,  and  Harold  said,  "Yes, 
I  have  spoken.  Was  it  wrong  ?  I  could  not 
wait." 

"This   boy  of  mine  has  always  been  of  an    im- 
patient nature,  Stephen,"  said  Mrs.  Carrington. 
Mr.  Balfour  smiled,  and  said  only,  "  Well !  " 
"Katie   will   put   up  with   me,"  Harold  said,  as 
Katie  hid  her  face. 

"  Perhaps  Katie  thinks  there  isn't  so  very  much 
to  put  up  with !  eh,  darling  ? "  Mr.  Balfour  took 
Harold's  strong  young  hand  into  his  own  faded  one, 
and  brought  it  close  to  Katie's. 

"  Are  you  sorry  ?  "  she  whispered.  "  I  mean,  do 
you  mind  ? " 

"  So  far  as  I  yet  know  Harold,  I  am  only  glad. 
I  know  Harold's  mother,  if  not  himself.  And 
it  is  a  great  comfort  to  me  to  feel  that  when 
I  am  taken,  my  child  will  not  be  alone  in  the 
world." 


220  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

"  That  will  not  be,  I  hope,  for  many  a  long  year," 
Mrs.  Carrington  said,  as  Katie  murmured  a  depre- 
cating, "  Please,  don't." 

"  It  may  not  be ;  but  see  the  uncertainty  of  life, 
even  for  the  young."  He  was  thinking  of  the  scene 
on  the  pier.  "  And  if  for  the  young,  how  much  more 
for  the  old !  " 

"Young  people  are  exposed  to  certain  dangers 
from  their  own  impetuosity,  which  old  people  do 
not  incur,"  Mrs.  Carrington  observed  rather  drily. 
"  But  I  should  like  you  to  know  more  of  my  boy,  as 
soon  as  possible.  Will  you  let  him  pay  you  a  visit 
at  Eckham  in  the  autumn  for  a  month  or  so,  when 
he  takes  his  holiday  ? " 

"  If  we  are  there,"  Mr.  Balfour  said,  with  a  curious 
look. 

"You  think  of  going  abroad  again  next  winter?  " 
inquired  Harold.  "  But  my  holiday  will  be  in 
September." 

"  Yes.  I  did  not  mean  exactly  that.  The  fact 
is,  I  do  not  expect  to  be  much  longer  at  Eck- 
ham. I  have  had  the  offer  of  a  living  in  Devon- 
shire." 

"  Oh ! "  Katie  hardly  knew  whether  to  be  glad 
or  sorry. 

"The  very  climate  for  you,  Stephen,"  said  Mrs. 
Carrington. 


TOGETHER. 


"So  my  friend  told  ine.  I  met  an  old  school 
friend  on  board  the  steamer,  coming  home, — a  kind- 
hearted  good  fellow.  He  has  the  gift  of  this  living, 
and  it  has  fallen  vacant.  The  stipend  is  about 
fifty  pounds  more  than  my  present  stipend,  and 
the  air  of  Devonshire  is  likely  to  suit  my  chest. 
The  village  is  small,  so  I  need  not  fear  the  work 
being  too  heavy.  It  seems  just  the  place  for 
me;  indeed,  I  have  already  accepted  the  offer.  I 
must  run  down  for  a  look  at  the  spot  before  going 
home." 

"And  you  will  be  able  to  stay  in  Devonshire 
through  the  winter  ? "  asked  Katie  anxiously. 

"  I  hope  so,  my  dear.     Until " 

"  Until  Katie  and  I  can  offer  you  a  home  with  us," 
Harold  suggested. 

Mr.  Balfour  shook  his  head. 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  father,  Harold  always  says 
that.  We  could  not  let  you  live  alone,"  Katie 
pleaded. 

"  Well,  dear  child,  we  shall  see.  No  need  to 
attempt  looking  forward.  Harold  has  to  wait  a  while 
for  a  living,  and  you  and  I  have  to  settle  down  in  a 
new  nest — a  mercifully  provided  home,  according  to 
our  need,"  Mr.  Balfour  added  musingly.  "  How 
often  one  finds  it  so  !  Why  do  we  ever  disquiet 


222  LIFE  IN  A  NUTSHELL. 

ourselves  about  the  future?  It  is  in  a  loving 
Father's  hands." 

"  You  and  I  have  learnt  that  lesson,  Stephen," 
Mrs.  Carrington  said. 

Katie  thought  that  she  had  learned  it  too. 


THE  END. 


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